


Hardest Kept Promises

by theartofbeinganerd



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Natasha/Jemma bonding, Non Age of Ultron Compliant, Non Season Two Compliant, Non-Explict Mentions of Past Non-Con, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, The Red Room, post season one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-08-10
Packaged: 2018-04-01 12:03:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 49,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4019044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theartofbeinganerd/pseuds/theartofbeinganerd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She cut him off, pressing another kiss to his lips. “I feel the same way,” she murmured against them. For a long moment, they kissed, breathing each other in and holding each other tight. Then, Jemma pulled back a bit to meet his eyes, and she whispered firmly, “I promise you that I won’t ever leave you, Leo.”</p><p>Even as he was nodding, holding tightly to his belief in her promise, Fitz felt that it might already be out of Jemma’s control.</p><p>Or, Clintasha joins Coulson’s team at the Playground post Season One and Natasha acts as the catalyst for a Fitzsimmons becoming a couple much sooner, because we all know deep down she’s actually a matchmaker.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first Marvel fic and my first published work on this site. This was supposed to be a short little scenario that wouldn't leave my head, but then I cranked out ninety pages in less than a week so I figured why not post it? It's fourteen chapters plus an epilogue, and is already finished. I apologize in advance for any OOC-ness, I'm relatively new to writing for this fandom. Despite that, I hope everyone enjoys it as much as I enjoyed writing this little "what if". Any feedback is appreciated!

The ramp was lowering, the sunlight from outside shining just _so_ , leaving the two figures in shadow. Coulson raised his hand to cover his eyes, attempting to figure out what agents had come to join them at the Playground.

When voices filtered through to them as two sets of footsteps came closer, Coulson’s lips curled into a fond, relieved smile.

“As if any respectable SHIELD agent couldn’t take out those defense systems in two seconds flat,” a woman was scoffing.

“Let’s save the criticism for a little bit,” a man responded, sounding tired.

It was then that they appeared, the woman of average height with red hair to about her shoulders, a small backpack over one shoulder. The man was taller than her, with short dirty blonde hair and a duffel bag in his hand. Both were in civilian clothes and looked unassuming enough, but there was probably about _at least_ seven different weapons on each of them.

“Don’t judge my base,” Coulson said with a grin, stepping forward to greet them. “How did you two end up here?

"Fury told us about this place,” the woman explained, “We would've come sooner, but I had to help this idiot," she elbowed the guy in the ribs, "get out of East Asia safely. HYDRA was already on his tail."

Coulson still looked incredibly relieved as he admitted, "I was worried when I heard you were unaccounted for."

A small, smug smirk pulled at her lips. "They wouldn't have found me unless I wanted to be found, Coulson. You know that. Besides, I couldn't have SHIELD tracking me while I tried to get Barton out; it could've led HYDRA straight to us."

Coulson opened his mouth to say something, but the man, Barton, cut in, "Don't say you're glad to see us, Coulson, it'll make everything weird."

Coulson chuckled at that. "I was going to say 'good to see you're not dead' but I suppose they're roughly the same thing."

"You're not going to say 'good to see you're not HYDRA'?" Barton asked, a bit of amusement coloring his tone.  
Coulson scoffed. "Like I'd ever think either of you was HYDRA."

"Speaking of not being dead…" she trailed off, arching an eyebrow.

Coulson held up a hand, stopping her from saying anything else. "Not my call, Natasha. I would've rather you know." He lowered his hand, giving them a small grin. "Though I have to say I'm glad that it was Fury who told you and not me. I could do without the yelling and accusations right now."

The woman, Natasha, didn't even deny it, she just crossed her arms and smirked.

"This is Agent Romanoff and Agent Barton," Coulson finally explained, gesturing to first the woman, then the man. Then, he introduced them, "I'm sure you both remember Agent May, this is Agent Triplett, and Agent Skye. We have two other members of our team, but they're currently in the infirmary."

Romanoff raised a perfect eyebrow. "HYDRA?"

Coulson gave a solemn nod. "One of our own turned out to be HYDRA. He –"

"He launched them to the bottom of the ocean in a medical pod and left them to die," Skye cut in, her tone sharp and unforgiving.

"Who was it? The HYDRA agent?" Barton asked, his expression serious.

"Grant Ward," May answered, a scowl appearing at the name.

Romanoff and Barton exchanged a glance. "I've heard of him," Romanoff said, "a specialist, right? They were apparently making noise about him being up to my standards." Barton gave a scoff, showing how ridiculous he thought that was.

“That’s the one,” Coulson answered, pressing his lips together, most likely to repress a grimace.

"And the ones in the infirmary?" Romanoff asked.

"Agent Fitz and Agent Simmons," Coulson answered. "Though Fitz is the only injured one. Simmons refuses to leave his side."

Romanoff tilted her head curiously. "Wait, the scientists everyone is always singing praises about? The ones they call Fitzsimmons?"

"That's them," May answered affirmatively.

Barton's eyebrows rose just barely. "Ward tried to kill _scientists_? What the hell kind of threat were they that they required a death like that?"

Skye's hands curled into tight fists at her sides. "They _weren't_. Ward did it for no damn reason."

Tense silence followed Skye’s harsh but true words before Koenig finally came bustling into the area to greet their new guests, shaking their hands excitedly. “It’s an honor to have you here, agents. Truly, an honor.”

Romanoff and Barton exchanged an almost amused glance before she said simply, “Thanks.” She nodded at the lanyard around his neck. “I’m supposing we need those.”

“You’ll have to pass a test before you can be issued lanyards,” Coulson told Romanoff and Barton apologetically.

Koenig raised his eyebrows, looking shocked. “Of course they don’t! They’re Barton and Romanoff! In fact, I’ll get you lanyards as soon as possible!” With that, he hurried out of the room and down the hall.

“So, basically everyone but us gets lanyards without the suspicion?” Skye asked in annoyance, crossing her arms over her chest.

Coulson gave a small shrug. “Sorry Skye, it’s nothing personal.”

“Feels pretty personal,” Skye muttered under her breath.

-

Natasha studied Coulson’s office with a sharp eye, raising an eyebrow. “It’s certainly homier than Fury’s office.” She turned to him, smirking. “I can’t believe you’re Director.”

“You and me both, Natasha,” Coulson said, moving to sit on the edge of his desk. “I saw the footage from D.C.”

Natasha gave a little grimace, but nodded in understanding. “Things got bad fast.”

“Good thing you and Cap were there.” He raised an eyebrow before he stated, “I heard that Cap wasn’t accounted for either.”

“Steve’s fine,” Natasha answered the implied question, crossing her arms over her chest. “A little shaken up. He’s…taking some personal time right now. Before we went off the grid, we got word from all the others. Everyone is fine.”

“Good.” Coulson gave a firm nod. “Though, none of them are going to be safe. HYDRA will come after them.”

“They know,” Clint assured Coulson, nodding firmly.

“So, what are we looking at? Number-wise,” Natasha clarified, “How many do you have for sure?”

Coulson gave a sigh before he answered, “Far less than I could ever hope for. I have my team here, and a few others that have been strategically placed. Everyone else is either HYDRA or has gone dark.”

Natasha shook her head, clearly unhappy with that. “No wonder Fury sent us here. You’re going to need the help.”

She almost expected Coulson to remind her firmly that he _didn’t_ need the help, though it was appreciated, but he simply smiled tiredly and said, “Thank you.”

It was just another reminder that everything truly had changed.

\---

As she did every day, Skye was visiting Simmons in Fitz’s room, and after hearing that there still hadn’t been any change, Skye told Simmons conversationally, keeping her tone unintentionally soft, "Some new agents came in today."

Simmons didn't look up from Fitz's pale face, his eyes still closed. "Who?" she asked, clearly trying to sound curious but failing.

"I don't know, their names are like Barton and Romanoff, I think."

Simmons sat up straighter, finally turning to face Skye with wide eyes. "Agents Barton and Romanoff are _here_?!"

Skye nodded, her eyes also wide. "Wait, have you heard of them?"

Simmons nodded, her expression telling Skye that it should've been obvious. "They're some of the most famous agents in SHIELD, Skye." She shook her head, clearly shocked. "You don't recognize them?"

"Should I?" Skye asked in confusion.

"They were in New York," Simmons explained. "They're members of the _Avengers_. Black Widow and Hawkeye."

Skye's jaw dropped open in utter shock. "… _what_?!"

Simmons quickly shushed her, turning to check on Fitz. Seeing that there was no change, she turned back to Skye and nodded in confirmation. "I don't know why they're here and not regrouping with the Avengers. Maybe because Coulson used to be their handler. They're close, or so I've heard."

"Yeah they seemed pretty close," Skye commented a bit absently. Then, she shook her head slowly. "Oh my god, I can't believe there are _Avengers_ here."

"I've never met them," Simmons admitted, "Are they as intimidating as everyone says?"

Skye shrugged. "I don't know, I guess. They seem pretty chill, but you can tell that they're complete badasses." A small smirk appeared on her face. "They knew who you and Fitz were."

Simmons raised her eyebrows in shock. "They _did_?"

“Yeah, Coulson mentioned you guys and Romanoff asked if he meant the, and I quote, ‘scientists everyone is always singing praises about’.”

Simmons visibly flushed, ducking her head in embarrassment. “I can’t believe Agent Romanoff knew who we were.”

“I can,” Skye said, gently kicking Simmons’s foot with her own. “You guys are geniuses, prodigies really, why wouldn’t they have heard of you?”

Simmons shrugged, returning her gaze to Fitz’s unresponsive body. “We’re not really that famous within SHIELD, Skye. Not like you think. Besides, we’re not really much right now, are we?”

Skye sighed, closing her eyes briefly before she reminded Simmons firmly, “This is _temporary_ , Simmons. Fitz is going to wake up soon, and then you guys are going to go back to being Fitzsimmons and spouting nonsense that no one else understands and impress and confuse us all. Okay?”

Simmons heaved a long sigh, her head lowering a bit, but she nodded. “Okay, Skye,” she responded softly, and Skye didn’t believe it, but she wasn’t sure what else she could say.

“I’m going to go get some dinner. Do you want anything?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

Just as she predicted, Simmons shook her head. “No, I’m fine.”

“Alright.” Skye placed a hand on Simmons’s shoulder briefly before she opened the door and stepped out of the room and into the hall.

"Visiting your sick teammate?"

Skye turned, finding Romanoff leaning against the wall a little ways down from her. She finished shutting the door before walking towards the other woman. "Simmons, actually. Fitz is…well, he's in a coma."

Romanoff gave a solemn nod. "Hard to see your partner like that." After a beat, she asked, "How is she? It can't be easy for them; they're not used to getting hurt in the field like we are."

Skye tamped down on her surprise at Romanoff being concerned about Simmons and answered, "She's…hanging in there. I…I honestly don't know what she'll do if he doesn't…"

Romanoff's expression was hard to read. "That's one of the mistakes SHIELD's claimed to have made. Keeping partners together long enough that they become so entwined there isn't one without the other. They wanted results, and when they got them from a team, they made the call to keep them together. A dangerous situation."

Skye frowned, shaking her head. "So, what? Is nobody at SHIELD supposed to get attached? Are we just supposed to pretend that we don't care about the people we're working with, and not care if we never see them again?"

For a moment, Romanoff just watched her without a hint of emotion on her face. Then, she smirked. "Well, there's my confirmation. I could tell I would like you." She straightened from her lean against the wall and moved closer to Skye, about to brush past her, when she paused and asked, "Do you think it would help her to talk to someone who has been through this with their partner?"

Skye turned to face Romanoff once more, surprise clear in her expression. "Why? Did you go through something similar with Barton?"

Romanoff let out a long sigh, her eyes faraway. "Yes, a long time ago. Barton and I have both been through it with the other, actually. But, funnily enough, I'd be the one more apt to help. Barton has…issues with talking to pretty much everyone, except me of course. And probably Coulson."

Skye soaked that in for a moment, wondering if Romanoff could actually help Simmons. After a moment, she gave a nod, figuring that it couldn’t hurt. "Yeah, it might be good for her."

-

Jemma looked up when the door opened, expecting that Skye had come back, or that Coulson or May was coming to check on them. She expected anyone but the Black Widow.

"Agent Simmons?" she asked, seeming just a tad uncertain as she closed the door behind her.

For a moment, Jemma just stared dumbly at her. Then, she snapped out of it and blushed as she nodded. "Oh! Yes, that's me. Jemma Simmons."

The other woman took a step forward, holding out her hand. "Natasha Romanoff."

Jemma took her hand and shook it, ignoring the disbelief coursing through her system. Skye had just told her that the two agents were here, but she never expected one of them to search her out. "Is there anything I can help you with, Agent Romanoff?"

She was hoping that they didn't need her for something; she didn't want to have to leave Fitz. What if he woke up and was all alone? She couldn't bear the thought.

Romanoff seemed to hesitate a moment before she said, "Call me Natasha."

Jemma's eyebrows rose. Agent Romanoff wanted her to be on a first name basis with her? "Natasha, then. Please, call me Jemma."

Natasha stood at the end of the bed, her gaze obviously taking in Fitz, with his tubes and beeping heart monitor. "I heard that he's your partner."

Jemma's hand tightened just a bit around Fitz's still fingers. "Yes."

There was a look in Natasha's eyes, as though she wasn't seeing Fitz lying in the bed, but something similar from some other time. "There was a mission Clint and I were sent on years ago, to Budapest. We made some stupid mistakes, and ended up in a rundown building with enemy forces closing in from all sides."

Jemma listened with rapt attention, even as she wondered why Natasha was sharing this with her. She'd heard the stories of the unemotional and unreachable Black Widow.

"Clint…he was an idiot," Natasha went on, rolling her eyes. "He drew them away, distracted them so that I could get behind them and take some out, give us a chance. He got hurt, badly. When extraction got to us, he was bleeding out and barely conscious. He was in a coma for a week. They told me the entire time to expect the worst, but I knew that he was strong enough to get through it. I knew…I knew that he wouldn't leave." There was an unspoken _he wouldn't leave me_ somewhere in that last sentence.

Jemma's breath had caught in her throat when she realized what Natasha was getting at and what she was trying to do for Jemma. But, by the end, she realized that their situations were more similar than Natasha probably realized.

"Fitz…" Jemma started, the words coming out with difficulty as she tried to tell the story again. It had been hard enough to tell the team right after it had happened. "Fitz and I had been launched to the bottom of the ocean in a med pod. We had figured out a way to blow the window, but there was only enough oxygen for one of us to get out." Jemma sucked in a breath, fighting down the sobs that had started around this time when it was actually happening. "He…he gave it to me, and I kept telling him no, but…but…" She couldn't help it as the tears broke through and began racing down her cheeks. "He…he told me that…" Her bottom lip quivered, and she couldn't say it. She hadn't even told the others about this part. She just couldn't.

"That he loved you?" Natasha inferred.

Jemma's tears began falling faster. "Well…yes. No. Not in those words. I didn't want to leave him. I didn't even have time to process it before he was blowing the window and…" She trailed off, unable to say anymore without the sobs escaping. She clutched Fitz's hand for dear life, wishing with all her heart that he would just wake up.

When she felt a hand on her shoulder, she looked up in surprise, finding Natasha standing above her, a sympathetic expression on her face. "Clint…" She gave a little humorless laugh. "When he was dying on the ground right in front of me and I was trying to keep him awake, I demanded to know why he would do something so stupid. And do you know what the idiot said? He said ‘ _’cause I love you, Tasha_ ' and then he blacks out and I'm in shock and then extraction is there…and I'm left with a week to wonder what the hell happened and what I should say, or if I'll ever get the chance to say _anything_."

Jemma had heard plenty of speculation around SHIELD about the relationship between the two famous agents. It was a popular opinion that they were sleeping together. No one had ever wondered if they were in love, though. "And…what did you decide? _How_ did you decide?"

Natasha's hand squeezed Jemma's shoulder supportively. "I spent an entire week sitting beside his unconscious body, and I remembered everything we'd been through. I thought about every mission, every little moment, the way that I felt when I was with him and when I wasn't. Most importantly, I tried to think about my life without him, and I _couldn't_. That was the biggest indicator."

The words " _I couldn't live if you didn't_ " and " _I feel the same way_ " floated through her mind as she whispered, "I passed living my life without Fitz a long time ago. There's a reason why people call us Fitzsimmons." She reached up with her free hand to swipe at her cheeks, trying to rid herself of the tears. "We've always been better together, the piece that the other was missing. Perhaps it's foolish, but I had never even considered that there was anything _more_ between us. Now, however, all I can think about is how it feels to have him hold me, how much I miss his laugh and his _stupid_ jokes and the way he always knows exactly what I need. I…I keep wondering if that's…"

"I think you already know the answer," Natasha said, her voice soft.

Jemma glanced over at Fitz, the sight of him looking so broken knocking the wind from her just as it always did. "I don't want to lose what we have."

"If you feel as strongly as it appears you do, if you're this close already, there is no way that will happen. I was terrified that I couldn't love Clint back, and I would lose him because of it. I was mad at him for saying that, for changing everything without my permission. But…once I realized how I felt and told him, once we were actually giving it a try…I found what had always been missing from my life, what I had never even realized _was_ missing. It was…well, beautiful and more than I had ever imagined, and I wouldn't go back to the way we were for anything."

Jemma was silent as she soaked in Natasha’s words, her eyes tracing over every feature of Fitz’s familiar face. Natasha didn’t say anything, just simply stood beside her, obviously waiting for her to be ready to talk.

Finally, Jemma turned to face her and asked the question that had been bugging her since Natasha had started this conversation. "Not to be rude, because you've been incredibly helpful, but why _are_ you helping me?" she asked.

Natasha gave a small sigh before she admitted, "It's just that…I've been through this more times than I care to think about, and I've often wondered if it would help to talk with someone who had been through a similar situation."

"Well it has," Jemma assured her. "I can't thank you enough."

"You don't have to at all," Natasha insisted. "Just…let's keep this between us. I'm sure you know my reputation." She smirked as she added, "Wouldn't want everyone to know that the Black Widow has a soft side."

Jemma smiled at that. "How long will you be here? I can’t imagine how upset Fitz would be when he woke up and found out that he had missed an opportunity to meet Black Widow and Hawkeye."

"We're honestly not sure. Fury sent us here to help Coulson and give us a place to disappear to. I'd say that unless the Avengers need us, we'll be here for awhile." She gave Jemma a knowing grin. "I'm looking forward to seeing how it all turns out."

Jemma flushed as she admitted, "Me too."


	2. Chapter Two, Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so just to let everyone know ahead of time, I’m disregarding the season two brain trauma storyline, only because it was designed to change their relationship, to cause them to break apart and then come back together, while I want to focus on the way their friendship could grow into a relationship much less gradually, and explore how it could have happened in the wake of season one.
> 
> Oh and um…haha let’s pretend that Fitz didn’t break his arm during the fall, maybe just like…sprained it or something because I might have forgotten, and by the time I remembered I’d already written too much to change so…oops?
> 
> And lastly, let me just take a moment to explain that this is partly based on my headcanon, and there are two parts of it that play a pretty big role in this story. The first, seen in this chapter, is Jemma calling Fitz ‘Leo’ once they’re in a relationship. My main reason for that is honestly because it means that Fitz can say that only the two most important women in his life call him that: his mother and Jemma. Really, that’s it.
> 
> Okay, no, this is the last thing I promise, I had to split chapter two into two parts, because it was way too long, so this is part one.

“Jemma?”

Jemma squeezed her eyes more tightly shut, giving a little groan and trying to swat away whoever was trying to wake her. “No,” she mumbled, burying her face further into her arms.

“Jemma?”

The voice was more insistent, and something was tickling at the back of her mind, something was telling her that she _should_ wake up, but she was so _tired_. She just wanted to sleep.

“Jemma?”

It was then that Jemma realized that she wasn’t going to get any sleep anyway, because for some reason she knew that the voice wasn’t going to stop bugging her until she woke up. So, with a heavy sigh, she forced her head up and her eyes open. Her gaze darted around Fitz’s room in the infirmary, where she’d fallen asleep every night that he’d been there.

There didn’t seem to be any nurse gently shaking her shoulder to ask her to move from her place beside the bed _just for a moment honey_ , there was no Coulson waking her up for an emergency briefing, and there was no Skye demanding she join her for a midnight snack. So who…?

Then, in the dim florescent light coming in from the hallway, Jemma’s gaze landed on Fitz.

His eyes were open and staring right back at her.

\---

When Fitz’s eyes flew open, he was expecting to be staring up through thousands of feet of water, unable to see the sun, stuck in a watery grave at the bottom of the ocean.

He sucked in a sharp gasp of air, immediately shutting his eyes once more. He didn’t want to see it.

Wait… _air_?

There was no oxygen at the bottom of the ocean.

Slowly, he reopened his eyes, and finally took in his surroundings. It was mostly dark, the only light coming from outside, but it appeared he was in a room, and he could now hear the beeping of a heart monitor. He was in a hospital of some kind. Which meant…he’d _survived_.

Then, it hit him like a freight train.

_Jemma!_

Had Jemma made it out like he’d hoped and prayed? If he had survived, then she must have too, right?

Just as Fitz was about to go into panic mode, he heard a small whimper beside him, and his gaze dropped to the side of the bed he now noticed he was in. He followed the length of his arm to where it disappeared beneath a pair of crossed arms with a head pillowed on top of them, and familiar brown hair fell over the arms and onto his bed, hiding any kind of facial features, but Fitz didn’t need them to know who it was.

“Jemma,” he breathed, a relief passing through him so strong that he nearly stopped breathing with the force of it. She was alive, and she was here, right beside him.

Even though he knew it was likely the middle of the night, he was desperate for answers, and even more desperate to just see her face, hear her voice. So, selfishly, he reached out with his other hand and nudged her shoulder.

“Jemma?” he prompted gently.

One of her hands freed itself to half-heartedly swat at his hand as she gave a small groan. He just barely heard her mumble, “ _No_.”

Fitz felt a grin tug at his lips even as he was nudging her again. “Jemma?” After waiting a moment, he repeated, “Jemma?”

Finally, she sighed and lifted her head, blearily opening her eyes and looking around the room. Fitz felt his breath catch in his chest at the sight of her. Her cheek was slightly red, most likely from where it’d been resting against her arm, and she just barely had bags under her eyes, meaning she must not have been sleeping very well, but she was still Jemma, and she was still as beautiful as ever.

He clearly picked out the confusion on her face as her gaze darted about the room, then, it finally landed on him and he saw her eyes widen, her jaw dropping open. “F… _Fitz_?” she whispered, as though she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

“You expected someone else?” Fitz asked, wincing a bit at how quiet and rough his voice was. It was like he hadn’t talked in weeks!

“No…I…it’s just…” Her bottom lip trembling was the only warning before tears were pouring down her cheeks. “Oh my god, _Fitz_.” She lifted his hand in both of hers and pressed the back of his against her cheek.

Worry began to build up in Fitz’s stomach, tying it into knots. “You’re acting like I died and came back to life,” he teased, trying to figure out what the hell had happened since the bottom of the ocean.

Jemma gave a little sob as she clutched his hand tighter to her face. “You nearly did! Fitz, you’ve been in a coma for nine days!”

Fitz’s mouth fell open, shock coursing through him. “ _What?_ ”

Jemma nodded, sniffling. “Yes. Director Fury pulled us out of the ocean not even moments after I broke the surface, but you’d gone for so long without oxygen and…and…” She shook her head, her eyes closing tightly. “I can’t believe…”

“Jemma…” Then, something occurred to Fitz. “Wait a second, Director Fury?”

Jemma’s eyes sprung open only for her to glare at him through her tears. “ _Really_ , Fitz?! _That’s_ what you focus on?!”

Fitz sheepishly shrunk further into his pillow. “Well…I just…”

She shook her head before he could add anymore stumbled attempts at an apology on. “No, no, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. There’s so much you’ve missed, it’s not your fault. It’s mine. I should’ve…swum faster…I just…”

Fitz was absolutely appalled. “You think this is _your_ fault? Jemma…no, this was all _Ward_.” Anger burned through his veins at the simple name, but he shook it off. _Focus on that later, focus on_ Jemma _now_. “None of this was your fault.”

She was still shaking her head, and Fitz wanted desperately to have all the words to fix this, to make everything right again, and honestly, to figure out where the hell they stood now after what he’d thought were his last words to Jemma. But, all he seemed to want to do was close his eyes and go back to sleep.

He’d slept for nine days, for god’s sake! He should be able to stay awake just a little bit longer, at least long enough to help Jemma. But, he could feel himself fading fast.

“Oh Fitz, I’m so sorry, you must be exhausted,” Jemma sighed, clearly upset with herself for not realizing this sooner. “Sleep, we’ll talk about it in the morning.”

Apparently, all Fitz’s brain ever needed was Jemma’s permission, because he was closing his eyes and nearly already asleep, but he needed to make sure she knew something first. “Not your fault, Jem.”

He thought he heard her sigh, “Oh _Fitz_ ,” before he fell back into the clutches of sleep.

\---

Skye had just entered the kitchen and begun preparing a bowl of cereal, when she heard it.

Down the hall somewhere, the heart monitor in Fitz’s room was beeping at a more insistent rhythm, and if she listened hard enough, she could hear Jemma’s soft voice and _another voice._

Her bowl clattered to the counter, spilling dry cereal all over, as she took off for the door at a breakneck pace. On her way down the hall, she heard hurried footsteps joining hers.

"What's going on?" Romanoff demanded, following Skye’s hasty departure with Barton close on her heels.

"Fitz is awake!" Skye cried, her tone elated and disbelieving at the same time. As they reached the infirmary, they slowed and Skye opened the door, bursting in. "Fitz!" she cried happily, let out a breath at the sight of him sitting up in the bed, his eyes open. He still looked a little worse for wear, but was alive and awake. Simmons was at his side, his hand between both of hers and her eyes looking distinctly wet.

"Hey Skye," he greeted, his voice low and a bit rough from disuse.

"Don't ever scare me like that again, okay?" Skye noticed Simmons give a little nod of agreement at that.

"I'll try," Fitz said, giving a weak chuckle.

Skye noticed Romanoff and Barton still outside the door, and figured it was time to make some introductions. She gestured for the other two to come in. "Guys, I'd like you to meet Agents Barton and Romanoff." Turning to the two agents, she gestured to Fitz and Simmons. "And this is Fitz and Simmons."

Fitz was staring in open-mouthed shock, glancing between Romanoff and Barton, then to Simmons, who was smiling in amusement.

"Yes, I've met Agent Romanoff," Simmons said, "but it's nice to meet you, Agent Barton."

Fitz quickly looked at Simmons. "You've met Agent Romanoff?! _When_?"

Romanoff was hiding a grin as she said, "It's nice to _officially_ meet you, Agent Fitz. I've heard a lot about you."

Simmons was blushing at that, and Fitz glanced at her. "You talked about me to _Agent Romanoff_?!"

"All good things, I promise," Romanoff said, smirking. "Well… _mostly_ good things, at least."

Fitz's open-mouthed, affronted look directed at Simmons caused Skye and Simmons to break into laughter, even Barton and Romanoff chuckling a bit at the sight. All the tension and worry about Fitz's condition could finally be released, and it was freeing and a huge weight off of their shoulders.

“It’s not funny!” Fitz insisted, which only made them laugh harder. “Some friends _you_ are.” He pouted, crossing his arms over his chest as best he could with the IV in his hand.

“Oh Fitz,” Simmons sighed, placing a consoling hand on his arm. “We’re just so glad that you’re awake.”

Skye noticed the tears building up again in Simmons’s eyes, and she knew what she needed to do. What _they_ needed. “Now that I’ve seen that you’re alive and well, I’ve got to get back to…what I was doing,” she said, not even bothering to come up with an actual excuse to leave Simmons and Fitz for a little bit.

Simmons rolled her eyes at her, but didn’t say anything as Skye left the room, waving over her shoulder. Barton and Romanoff weren’t far behind her, closing the door behind them.

“I can’t believe he’s okay,” Skye commented softly, shaking her head. “The doctors were sure there would be lasting damage.”

“He got lucky,” Romanoff surmised, crossing her arms over her chest. A sly smirk crossed her lips as she glanced over her shoulder at the closed door.

-

"Did you really talk to Agent Romanoff about me?" Fitz asked, sounding distinctly worried as he watched the door shut behind the two famous agents.

Jemma smiled as she admitted, "Yes. She came in here a couple days ago, to try and… Well, she said that she's been through a similar situation. Agent Barton was severely injured years ago and was in a coma for a week."

Fitz reached over to give her hand a brief squeeze. "That seems kind of out of character. From what I've heard of her, at least."

"Well, Natasha said that she's always wondered if talking to someone would help her in these situations, and wanted to help if she could. I…I think there's a lot of her character that she hides. She's a genuinely nice person, she just doesn't like people seeing it for some reason; neither of them do. I mean, looking at them, you would never be able guess that they're in love."

Fitz blinked a couple times. "Wait a second – did you just call her _Natasha_? And how do you know they're _in love_?"

"She told me to call her Natasha," Jemma explained with a smile that quickly faded to something more serious, "And that was part of her story. Barton sacrificed himself to save Natasha, and when she demanded to know why, he said that he loved her. The week that he was in the coma, she had to decide how she felt about him in return. She said that she was upset at him for changing everything, afraid that they might lose each other if it didn't work out."

Fitz seemed to be having a little trouble breathing, clearly having realized that Jemma was hiding behind Natasha's story to bring them to the conversation she really wanted to have but was still afraid to. "And…what did she eventually decide?"

Jemma took a deep breath. "She said that she thought about everything they'd been through together, the way she felt when he wasn't with her, and tried to imagine her life without him and couldn't."

Fitz swallowed visibly. "And…clearly it worked out, yeah?"

"Seems like it," Jemma breathed. "She said that their relationship, their love, was the piece of her that she never knew was missing. That she wouldn't go back to the way they were before for anything."

He was staring at her in such a way that Jemma sucked in a breath that got stuck in her lungs. It…it was almost as if he thought she was the one who made the sun rise and set. "Jemma…" Uncertainty mixed into his expression. "Are…are we having the conversation I think we are?"

Jemma couldn't really form a response to that, so she simply gave a short nod, already feeling the tears begin to build.

Fitz took a deep breath, nodding a bit nervously. “Okay. Okay. Um…so…”

Jemma’s fingers curled around his hand, gripping it tightly. “I’m scared, Fitz. I’m so scared that if it doesn’t work out, that we’ll never be able to go back to what we had before. I’m scared that maybe it’s already too late.”

Fitz carefully turned his hand over in hers, squeezing hers tightly in return. “I’m scared too, Jem. I’m terrified to lose you. But…” He shook his head, resolving himself to ask something before he went on any further. “Jemma, I need to know, how do you feel? About me? Us?”

She chewed her bottom lip, lowering her eyes for a moment before forcing herself to meet his once more. “I’ve thought about it a lot, Fitz. There…wasn’t really much else that I _could_ think about. What Natasha said helped quite a bit. I’ve never really taken the time to think about just how entwined we’ve become. Sometimes I can’t remember where I end and you begin. We’re…practically the same person sometimes, and I never even noticed it happening until it was already too late. You’re a part of me, Fitz. I don’t want to ever have to think about my life without you. This…this was the scariest nine days of my life.”

Fitz was watching her intently, a cautious hope in his eyes. “And…what does that mean? In the long run?”

Jemma gave a little laugh that verged on a sob as she pulled his hand up to her lips, pressing a kiss against the back of it. “It means that, somehow, at some point, I fell in love with you, Leo Fitz, and I don’t know how I never realized it before because it’s so _obvious_.”

Fitz’s face lit up with happiness and pure wonder and amazement. “Jemma…” he breathed, gently pulling his hand from hers to cup her cheek, sweeping his thumb along her cheekbone. “Oh, Jemma…”

Jemma turned her head to press a kiss to his wrist. “I love you, Leo. So much. And I’m still terrified, but somehow, I don’t think this could ever be a bad thing. Not with the way I feel about you.”

“I love you too, Jemma,” he whispered, sliding his hand back to bury his fingers in her hair. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

She blushed, the tears that had been building in her eyes beginning to run down her cheeks. “Shut up,” she told him, laughing. Standing from her seat beside the bed, she leaned over him, placing a hand on his face as, for the first time and most certainly not the last, Jemma Simmons pressed her lips against Leo Fitz’s.

\---

When Jemma had made doubly sure that she’d shut the door to his room, Fitz was a bit confused, but hadn’t commented on it. He was more focused on seeing Jemma, on the knowledge that she returned his feelings – that she _loved_ him – and they were _together_.

“Hey,” he greeted softly, smiling warmly as she finally turned to face him.

“Hi,” she responded, sounding almost…shy. She shuffled her feet a bit awkwardly before she took a deep breath and crossed the room to stand beside his bed.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, reaching out for her hand and feeling a bit of reassurance when she allowed him to take it. Her nervousness was concerning him. Had she changed her mind? Did she realize that she didn’t actually feel that way about him, and was now worrying about the right way to break it to him? “If it’s about…what you said…it’s okay if…if you didn’t –”

“That’s not it,” Jemma assured him immediately, squeezing his hand. She swallowed visibly, closing her eyes briefly before she sat on the edge of his bed, leaning over him a bit. “It’s…I…” She shook her head, looking frustrated with herself. “Oh, never mind.” Then, she closed the remaining distance between them and kissed him.

And that was how they ended up lying in his bed, avoiding all the stupid wires connecting him to the medical equipment beside the bed, kissing heatedly, their hands wandering and discovering the only things about each other that they’d never known.

It had hit Fitz more than once that he was _making out_ with _Jemma Simmons_ , but she kept distracting him, whether it be her lips on his neck and her teeth scraping against his skin just hard enough to make him shudder, or her fingers trailing down his side and to his back, finding the gap in the back of his stupid (not so stupid right now) hospital gown and pressing against the bare skin there.

Fitz wondered if he’d actually died in the ocean like he’d been preparing himself for, and all this was just part of the _whatever_ that came after. If so, death wasn’t really that bad.

Or, he wondered if he was still in the coma, and when he woke up Jemma was going to kiss his cheek and thank him for saving her life before attempting to let him down easy.

But, this felt so real – _too_ real. The sound of Jemma’s soft moan as his hand curled around her thigh was too real, the feel of her breath against his cheek was too real, the taste of her perfect mouth was too real, the scent that he’d always equated with Jemma that was all around them was too real, and the sight of her gorgeous face on his pillow beside him with her eyes closed and her lips parted was too real. And, if his senses all agreed, then this _must_ be real and Jemma Simmons must actually be _his_.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps heading toward the room could be heard and Jemma nearly jumped out of the bed, untangling herself from him and taking her normal seat beside the bed, trying to catch her breath, resituate her clothing, and fix her hair all at the same time.

Fitz, meanwhile, could only stare at her in bewilderment, unsure how in one moment he could have her arms, and in the next she was sitting beside his bed and looking perfectly innocent like nothing had happened.

Then, the door opened and a nurse came in and checked his IV and heart monitor. She made a surprised noise as she read the readouts from the monitor and Fitz felt himself turn bright red. “Want to explain this?” she asked, turning to him and looking almost…amused as she glanced between them.

“Not…really,” Fitz mumbled, shooting a quick glance at Jemma and finding her staring at her lap guiltily.

The nurse chuckled and shook her head. “Just be careful and don’t pull out any of the important stuff,” she reminded him, tapping the wires connected to him.

“We were,” Fitz assured her immediately before he realized what he’d said and he wanted to just sink into the ground and disappear. “I…I um…”

“You don’t need to explain, honey,” she said, patting his leg as she passed him to head back to the door. Then, she was gone and the door was closed once more and Fitz finally risked another glance at Jemma.

“Well…” Jemma started awkwardly, peering up at him with her lips pressed together.

“Well…?” Fitz repeated, wondering how she was going to finish that sentence.

“I’m pretty sure nurses aren’t supposed to encourage patients to make out in their beds with their girlfriends.”

Fitz’s laugh in response was suddenly cut short as he realized something. “Girlfriend?”

Jemma gave him an incredulous look. “Of course I’m your girlfriend, you dolt! I told you yesterday that I loved you, and then we just spent the past half hour making out!”

Fitz felt his face reddening. “Well, yes, I know that, but…I just…” He reached up to rub the back of his neck as he admitted, “I just…like hearing that. You calling yourself my girlfriend, I mean.”

Jemma’s face softened as she reached out for his hand, taking it in both of hers. “And I like saying it. I also like saying that you’re my boyfriend.”

Fitz grinned. “I also like hearing _that_ too.”

She smiled at him for a moment before she asked quietly, “Are we going to tell the team? About us?”

“Why wouldn’t we?” Fitz asked in confusion. “Do you…not want them to know?”

Jemma rolled her eyes as he jumped to yet another conclusion. “ _No_ , that’s not why I asked, Leo. I just…figured we should discuss how and when we would, if that was what you wanted to do. I didn’t want to assume…”

Fitz gave her a sheepish grin as he admitted, “Jemma, if I could I would scream from the bloody rooftops that you’re my girlfriend. I would probably tell anyone right now, even that nurse. If she came back, that is.”

Jemma blushed, biting her lip against a wide smile as she lowered her eyes. “Oh Leo.” She shook her head fondly before she met his gaze once more. “Do you think we should wait until you’ve been cleared to leave the infirmary? That way, we could gather them altogether and tell them all at once, and not have to repeat it to everyone when we saw them.”

“That’s good idea,” Fitz agreed. “And that way we wouldn’t have to worry about the ones we told first gossiping to the others.”

“You mean Skye,” Jemma said, clearly amused.

Fitz let out a laugh as he nodded. “Yes, I mean Skye.” After a moment, he turned his hand over in Jemma’s and laced their fingers. “So…there’s probably another half hour before a nurse comes in to check on me again…” He grinned suggestively at Jemma, who returned it slyly.


	3. Chapter Two, Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we have the reason for splitting chapter two: the monster of a final scene. It’s pretty much the entirety of part two, so I’m sorry about there not being much else in the chapter, but it’s a pretty important scene, in my opinion.
> 
> Which brings me to the second part of my headcanon that’s coming into effect in part two, and that is the fact that I’ve portrayed both Jemma and Fitz as virgins up until the time they’re together. My reasoning for this is mainly because it’s just something nobody has seemed to explore, and given that this is an AU, I wanted to take that chance to explore it, a universe with Fitzsimmons being each other’s first and only. . I tried to make the hesitancy and, to a lesser degree, the inevitable awkwardness evident, but at the same time, I really wanted to convey the romance even more, the desperation and pain Jemma is feeling after realizing that she came so close to losing Fitz and never experiencing this moment. I hope that came through in the scene and I’m sorry if it wasn’t a “realistic” first time or something like that. If anyone wants to know more about my reasoning feel free to ask, I don’t mind explaining, but this note was already running long.
> 
> Oh, also, a big thing to remember about this story: Natasha always has a reason for the things she does.

Fitz had spent a couple more days in the infirmary that involved a lot of secret and _completely_ hot make out sessions with Jemma before his doctors finally cleared him to leave.

As per their agreement, they managed to gather the team and sit down with them in the lounge not long after he’d left the infirmary to share their news.

“There’s something…that I never really told any of you about what happened in the medical pod,” Jemma began nervously, wringing her hands in her lap.

“Really?” Skye asked in surprise, glancing between Jemma and Fitz. “What is it?”

Jemma gave a nervous little laugh, briefly glancing at Fitz for courage, but before she had to say it, Fitz cut in, placing his hand on Jemma’s knee, “I told Jemma how I felt about her.”

Skye’s jaw dropped open, a gasp coming from her, Trip beside her grinning and shaking his head. Coulson had a knowing look on his face and seemed to be hiding a smile, while May’s eyebrows just barely lifted.

“And when Leo woke up, I told _him_ how I felt about him,” Jemma added, placing her hand over Fitz’s and squeezing.

Skye blinked a couple times, shaking her head. “Okay, two things. One; _oh my god, finally_! I’ve only been waiting a year for this! I _knew_ it, Trip you owe me twenty bucks! And two; who the hell is _Leo_?” Trip groaned and produced the twenty dollars, which Skye happily took.

Meanwhile Fitz flushed a bit as Jemma laughed and gently nudged his shoulder with hers. “Leo is _Fitz_ , Skye,”

Before Skye could protest that _Fitz_ was Fitz, Coulson cut in, still hiding his smile. “Just don’t let this hinder your work.”

“We would never,” Jemma and Fitz both assured him at the same time.

A little chuckle escaped as Coulson stood from his seat. “Good.” With that, he and May headed for the door. However, he paused and called back to them, “Congratulations, by the way.”

Then, he left the room, leaving Skye to ask the overwhelmed new couple what seemed like every single question that popped into her mind.

-

Hanging back in the room, Natasha and Clint had been observing the conversation, and as the small crowd began to disperse, Clint nodded at Fitz and Simmons. “This your work?” Natasha didn’t say anything, but a small smile played around her lips. “What did you do?”

“I talked to her,” Natasha explained simply. “Coulson asked me to.”

Clint arched a brow curiously. “He did?”

Natasha nodded. “He was worried about her, thought that hearing from someone who had been through this before would help.”  
“What did you tell her?”  
“I told her about Budapest,” she told him honestly, unashamed. “I think that Coulson suspected that it ran deeper than partners. For both of us. I held back on what really happened after, until she admitted that he’d said he loved her before attempting to sacrifice himself.” She shook her head, a wry smile on her face. “That man is a wonder. We never even told him what really went down during and after Budapest.”

Clint scoffed. “Like we _needed_ to tell him. Coulson could probably read it on our faces the second he saw us. He probably knew before we did.”

“Just like he probably knew it before _they_ did.” Natasha smiled softly as she watched Jemma fussing over Fitz, only to have him swat her away in mock-annoyance.

\---

That night, after dodging a million and one questions from Skye, Jemma had led Fitz down one of the few hallways with rooms for the inhabitants of the base. Reaching the end of the hall, she stopped in front of one of the closed doors and typed in the code on the keypad.

“This is the room Koenig set aside for you,” she explained, unable to help the anxious note in her voice as opened the door. “I took your things from the Bus and brought them here.”

Fitz followed behind her, his hands shoved into his pockets. “Oh, thanks,” he said absently, glancing around the room, though Jemma could tell he wasn’t really looking.

When he didn’t say anything else, Jemma bit her bottom lip and wrung her hands in front of her. “Um…well…if there isn’t anything you need, I…I should probably…” She gestured behind her, to the still open door. She didn’t really want to leave – she didn’t even want to let him out of her sight – but this thing between them was so new and different, and she didn’t have the first clue how to proceed from here.

Fitz glanced up, and Jemma recognized the look on his face. It was the one she had been seeing for months without realizing what it truly meant. Now, with everything she’d found out, she knew that he wanted to tell her something – had an almost desperate need to – but didn’t know how to say it. “I…I need…”

Her brow furrowed as he trailed off. “You need _what_?” Immediately, her mind went to the worst case scenario; did he need to go back to the infirmary? Was something wrong? “Leo, what is it?” she pressed, feeling her concern mount.

He ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated with himself. “Jemma, I need…” Shaking his head, he blurted out, “ _You_.”

“Me?” Jemma repeated, her voice hushed as she realized that Fitz didn’t need _medical help_.

Swallowing nervously, she asked softly, “What do you need from me?”

Fitz lowered his hand from the back of his head and reached out, grasping one of hers and pulling it from where she’d still been wringing them together. “I…I need…I _want_ you to stay. Here. With me.” When Jemma’s eyes widened, he quickly added, “If you want to, that is. I…I don’t want to _assume_ – I didn’t mean…you don’t –”

“Leo,” she cut in, lifting her free hand to his face, cupping his cheek. “Shh, stop. You’re not assuming anything.” Taking a deep breath, Jemma forced herself not to drop his gaze as she admitted, “I _do_ want to. Stay, that is. But…is it the best idea? You _just_ got out of the infirmary.”

It wasn’t a lie; Jemma couldn’t remember wanting anything more in her life. But, not only did he just leave the infirmary after a nine-day coma, there was also a slight hesitance holding her back. She craved his nearness, his touch, with a ferocity that honestly scared her. She’d been unable to keep from taking his hand in hers, brushing her fingertips over his arm, just _touching_ him all day, and that in and of itself wasn’t unusual; they’d never really had too much personal space when it came to the other. But this was…different. This was a desire to wrap her arms around him and never let go, a desire to give him everything she had and more, a desire to throw caution and planning and carefully considering the consequences to the wind. And Jemma was terrified of how much she wanted it. Terrified of the fact that there was no going back – terrified that she didn’t care.

Fitz looked rather breathless at her admission, but then very obviously forced himself to focus. “I got the all-clear, Jem. I’m fine. But, if you don’t want to do this, it’s okay. We can take this slow, figure everything out…”

Jemma thought about it for only another moment more before she shook her head, deciding to remember her words from what seemed like years ago – she jumped in. “We’ve been taking it slow for far too long, Leo.” With that, she blindly reached behind her and closed the door before taking the step between her and Fitz and pressing her lips against his.

His hands immediately found her hips, and she moaned into his mouth, wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning into him. Their lips meet heatedly, tongues clashing as Jemma pressed closer to him, tilting her head to change the angle and deepening the kiss.

She shifted to grab his shoulders, using them as leverage to go up onto the tips of her toes, sighing against his lips as it forced him to hold her more tightly to him. One of her hands slid up his neck to tangle in fingers in his hair.

Jemma eventually parted from him when she had difficulty breathing, but immediately her lips found his jaw, his neck, anywhere she could reach. “Jemma…” he sighed, and she felt his hands on her hips shifting to her back, fisting in her shirt, the material bunching in his hands.

She kissed along his jawline back to his mouth, tugging his bottom lip between both of hers. He groaned into her mouth, one of his hands releasing her shirt to slide beneath it, his fingertips exploring the skin he’d revealed.

Jemma shivered at the feel of Fitz’s hand on her bare skin, pulling back from the kiss to gasp. Fitz seemed to take that as an opportunity, his hands quickly finding the hem of her shirt.

However, he suddenly hesitated, glancing up at her. To answer the unspoken question, Jemma raised her hands above her head, even as she bit down hard on her bottom lip. Fitz then tugged the shirt up slowly, the backs of his fingers skimming along her sides as he did so. When her shirt hit the floor, Jemma lowered her arms, her fingers finding the buttons on the front of his shirt. With shaking hands, she attempted to undo them as quickly as possible before shoving the shirt off his shoulders.

His hands were warm on her shoulders, and she met his eyes as his fingers smoothed over her back to find the catch on her bra. He fumbled a bit awkwardly with it, his brow furrowing in concentration. Jemma was just about to ask if he wanted her to do it when the catch finally came loose and his face lit up victoriously. Jemma, without breaking the eye contact, shrugged out of it and dropped it to the ground.

She saw him suck in a breath before his gaze lowered and he swallowed visibly. She felt her stomach twist at the pure awe on his face as he whispered, his voice a bit hoarse, “ _Jemma_ …”

They’d seen each other in various states of undress throughout their friendship and partnership (most of the time unintentionally), but this was _so_ different. This was a _relationship_ , and they were free to look and touch as much as they wanted.

Still, Jemma couldn’t help but feel a bit self-conscious at the unabashed way he was staring. Automatically, she began to raise her arms to try and cover herself, losing whatever bravado she’d just had. However, Fitz’s hands caught hers, stopping her. “Don’t,” he told her gently, “Don’t. You’re so _beautiful_ , Jemma. So gorgeous. Unreal…” He shook his head, his words having gotten progressively softer as he went on.

On a sudden impulse, Jemma took a step forward, wrapping her arms around Fitz’s neck and pressing herself close, shuddering at the whole new layer this brought to hugging him. There was an intimacy to it that she could have never imagined could exist when there was absolutely nothing between them, just skin pressed to skin.

Fitz’s arms came up to wrap around her in response, his thumb stroking the area between her shoulder blades. Jemma breathed in the scent of him, closing her eyes and burying her fingers in his hair in an attempt to keep him close. His heart was beating against hers, and Jemma nearly let out a sob as she realized that this moment almost never happened. She’d almost lost him, and then she would’ve never known how it felt to _truly_ be in his embrace.

“Jemma,” he murmured, his tone soothing as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. He could read her so easily – he’d always been able to. “I’m right here, Jemma. I’m not going anywhere.”

Jemma nodded against his neck, forcing the tears back. She didn’t want to ruin this by bursting into tears. She didn’t want to look back on their first time and remember her crying before it even really started and setting a tone that would make the whole thing awkward and uncomfortable. “I’m sorry.” She pulled back to give him a small smile. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” he assured her, lifting his hand to cup her cheek and leaning forward to kiss her forehead.

More than ready to get things moving again, Jemma took Fitz’s hands in hers and brought them to the waist of her jeans. He gave her a brief glance, clearly checking to see if she was still okay with this, before he undid her jeans and began tugging them down her hips. She just barely remembered that shoes needed to be taken off before pants, and toed off her shoes, a hand on his shoulder to help her keep her balance.

Fitz knelt down to help her out of the jeans one leg at a time before he tossed them aside. Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to her stomach, and Jemma’s hands automatically came up to hold the back of his head. He trailed kisses from one hipbone to the other, making paths along her stomach, all the while whispering her name over and over reverently against her skin.

“Oh Leo,” she sighed, running her fingers through his hair and enjoying the feel of his lips on her skin for another moment before she used her grip in his hair to gently tug him back up to her. The met in another kiss as her hands wormed their way between them, undoing Fitz’s jeans and shoving them down his hips.

He first kicked off his trainers before stepping out of his jeans and pushing them away. Then, he took a step closer, wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her tightly to him. Jemma reveled in the feeling of so much of his skin against hers, and wished that the last two remaining pieces of clothing were gone so that it could just be all bare skin and all _them_.

Fitz read her mind like always, and turned his head, pressing a kiss to her temple before whispering, “Are you sure?”

Jemma nodded against his shoulder, kissing along it to his neck, up to his lips. Against them, she murmured, “I’ve never been surer.”

She felt him shudder, taking a moment to kiss her deeply before pulling back, his hands already on her hips and his fingers just barely beneath the band of her panties. He was breathing hard, and Jemma wasn’t sure if it was because of the kiss or because of what he was about to do.

In the next moment, he’d pulled her panties past her hips and they had fallen down her legs to the ground. She stepped out of them, kicking them away and grabbing hold of his boxers in the same moment.

Biting her lip anxiously, Jemma carefully tugged his boxers down, allowing them to fall to the ground much like her panties had, and he stepped out of them without breaking their gaze.

Then, they stood before one another, their clothes in piles around them, and Jemma felt her breath catch in her throat. This was it. This was them, pure and simple. There was no hiding behind lab coats and hidden feelings and pointless arguments. In that moment, she was just Jemma, and he was just Fitz. Two people so in love that they were about to engage in the most intimate act of physical love there was.

Jemma took his hands in hers, backing slowly toward the bed. When she reached it, she didn’t release his hands as she sat down on the edge before scooting back toward the middle of the mattress. He followed her, just like he always had, and in moments he was above her, their fingers laced as he pressed her hands to the bed on either side of her head.

He stared down at her, his chest rising and falling with his rough breathing. She squeezed his hands gently, a breathless smile curving her lips as she whispered, “Leo.”

In response, Fitz leaned down and pressed his lips against hers. She gave a soft moan, tightening her hands on his and arching up into him, her breasts pressed against his chest. She could feel him against her hip, and it caused a shudder to run through her.

For a long moment, they simply kissed. She sucked his bottom lip between both of hers, shuddering at the way he groaned, before releasing it and his tongue immediately seeking hers out. It was a give and take, just like they’d always had in the lab, just like their conversations and late-night brainstorming at the Academy. Just like them.

Finally, they parted, and Fitz pulled back a bit, his breathing ragged. “Jemma…” His eyes traced over her, lying beneath him, and he whispered reverently, “So beautiful…”

Jemma flushed, dropping his gaze a bit shyly. “Leo,” she sighed, tilting her head to recapture his lips, lifting her hips just slightly to brush against him.

Fitz immediately tore his mouth from hers to gasp, his eyes shutting. “Oh god Jemma,” he mumbled. “Oh _god_.” Taking a deep breath, he reopened his eyes. Beginning to shift a bit to position himself, something seemed to dawn on him. “Please tell me there’s…” he trailed off, looking desperate as he realized what he’d forgotten in his oh so thought out seduction of her.

Jemma laughed at the horrified look on his face. She reached out and opened the drawer to his bedside table, coming back with a little foil packet between her fingers. “You should know by now that I’m always prepared.”

Fitz’s eyes grew wide, his jaw dropping as the implication hit him. “You…you were _planning_ for this?”

Jemma shrugged, blushing a bit as she absently played with the edges of the packet. “Oh, well, not _really_ … I just figured that it was a possibility, and that I should be prepared in case it happened, and…”

She was cut off when he pressed his lips against hers. She responded eagerly, moaning into his mouth and wrapping her arms around his neck.

After a moment, he reached back and grabbed the condom from her hand, gently pulling away from her so that he could rip it open. He sat up a bit, a look of concentration on his face as he rolled it on before grinning up at her victoriously. “Just like they show you in those bloody horrible health classes, yeah?”

Jemma rolled her eyes at him, placing her hands on his shoulders and pulling him back down to her. Her legs fell open to allow him to fit his hips against hers, and she let out a sharp breath at the feel of him pressed against her.

Fitz reached between them, glancing down as he carefully positioning himself before meeting her eyes, seeking permission one last time. She nodded, her bottom lip caught between her teeth as he slid inside her, their eyes locked the entire time.

And then, they became what people had always called them for years. With a simple thrust of his hips against hers, they became one person, the lines between them blurring until they no longer existed. There was no way to tell anymore where she ended and he began.

It was the moment they truly became _Fitzsimmons_.

Jemma felt tears building in her eyes at the absolute depth of emotion and meaning behind this simple act. She knew that it was just a phrase, but right then she felt that they were _actually_ making love, no matter how silly it sounded. She didn’t even care about the bit of pain and discomfort as she attempted to get used to him. It seemed so trivial in the grand scheme of things.

“Leo,” she gasped out, her fingers twisting into his hair, her legs tightening around his waist. “Oh _Leo_.”

“ _God_ Jemma,” he groaned, his fingers digging into her hips a bit too hard, but she wasn’t about to complain. “Jemma, Jemma, Jemma…” He kept repeating her name over and over, the word falling from his lips like a prayer, and it almost sounded like he couldn’t believe that she was here with him, that this was actually happening.

“I love you,” she whispered reassuringly, but it only ended up causing her tears to spill over and down the sides of her face to land on his pillow.

Fitz looked absolutely distressed at the sight of her tears. “Jemma –” he started, making a move as though to pull away.

Quickly, Jemma wrapped her arms and legs more tightly around him, stopping his retreat. Shaking her head and giving a little laugh, she explained, “I’m not… Leo, it’s just…” She was frustrated by her inability to finish her sentence, but she decided to let actions speak for her, and she rolled her hips against his, reminding him of what they’d been doing.

He let out an involuntary moan, his eyes squeezing closed briefly as his hips thrust against hers in response. Then, he pulled out of her before pushing back in, making a whimper leave Jemma’s lips as her hands grabbed at his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin.

They eventually found a rhythm, and he lowered himself down against her more firmly, causing her breasts to brush against his chest with every thrust. She arched off the mattress and further into him, her head falling back against the pillow.

His hands were everywhere, on her hips, cupping her breasts, running along her thighs and back to grab at her knee to shift her leg just so to deepen his thrusts. Then, his hand was on her lower back, lifting her hips from the bed and tilting them in just the right angle and she moaned loudly at the way it allowed him to hit a spot inside her _just right_.

“ _Leo_ ,” she gasped out, instinctively jerking her hips up against his and slamming her eyes shut as the pleasure coursed through her veins.

“Jemma,” he said breathlessly, “Jemma, look at me.”

For a moment, she wasn’t sure she could, but then she forced her eyes open to meet his. His gaze was intense, filled with awe and love and a thousand other beautiful things Jemma couldn’t pick out just then. But it brought her tears back with a vengeance. “I love you,” she whispered. “I love you. I love you.”

She felt his thrusts become a bit more erratic, and she gave up on trying to match them as she simply allowed him to ride the waves of his release as he groaned out, “Love you, Jemma. Love you so much.”

When it was over, he collapsed against her, breathing hard, and Jemma made soothing noises as her tears continued to fall down her cheeks, her fingers running lovingly through his hair. She kissed his jaw, his neck, his shoulder, anywhere that she could reach, unable to believe what she’d just shared with her best friend – unable to believe how utterly _right_ it felt.

After some time, he managed to roll them so that he was on his back and she was tucked against his side, taking a moment to remove the condom and throw it into the bin beside the bed.

Jemma was eager at the opportunity to kiss him again, but as she was leaning up to find his lips with hers, she noticed an upset look on his face. “Leo?” she asked worriedly, suddenly wondering if this hadn’t been for him all that it had been for her.

“It’s nothing, Jemma,” he told her, his hand distractedly tracing the curve of her waist.

“Obviously it’s something if it’s bothering you,” she insisted, feeling the cold fingers of panic closing around her lungs and making it hard to breathe. “If…if it wasn’t good I’d rather you tell me.”

Fitz finally met her eyes, his expression completely incredulous. “Wasn’t _good_?” he repeated in shock. “Jemma…” He shook his head absently. “My god Jemma, that was bloody fantastic.”

“So…what’s wrong?” she asked in confusion.

He sighed, his head sinking a bit into the pillow as he said quietly, “It’s just…you didn’t…”

“Didn’t what?” Then, Jemma got it. “Oh! Well, that’s not any slight on your skill or prowess, Leo. It’s completely understandable, given that this was the first time for both of us. Honestly, I’d have been more shocked if I actually did.”

“Still…” Fitz winced as he reached up with his free hand to scrub it over his face. “Jemma, I’ve been dreaming about this moment for years, and I just…I wanted it to be _perfect_ if…when it happened.”

Jemma laughed, raising her hand to cup his cheek as she leaned in to give him a kiss. “Oh Leo, it _was_ perfect! It was beautiful, and perfect, and more than I could have ever dreamed.” She kissed him again before she whispered, “Thank you.”

Fitz peered up at her, a hopeful look in his eyes. “Really?”

She nodded, pressing her lips together to hold back more laughter. “Yes, really.”

“So…you’re gonna wanna do it again? With me?”

At that, Jemma couldn’t hold back her laughter anymore. “Of course! Unless you had someone else in mind?”

“ _Hell_ no!” Fitz’s eyes were narrowed, and she felt his arm tighten around her, as though she was about to jump out of the bed at the mere of idea of someone else. “You’re staying right bloody here.”

Jemma rolled her eyes, settling against his chest and resting her ear in just the right place to hear his heart beating beneath it. “Good, because there isn’t anywhere else I’d rather be.”


	4. Chapter Three

Jemma woke up to the feel of someone nuzzling her neck and shoulder, arms wrapped around her waist and heat radiating off of all the wonderful bare skin pressed against hers. She couldn’t help the smile that appeared when she remembered what had led to this. “Good morning, Leo,” she murmured, turning her head slightly to press her cheek against his forehead.

He lifted his head to place a kiss on her jaw, then her cheek, and finally her temple. “Morning, Jem.” There was a beat before he admitted softly, “Do you know how many times I imagined what it would be like to wake up beside you?”

Jemma shivered at his words, unconsciously pressing closer to him. “We’ve woken up together before,” she pointed out, even though she knew exactly what he meant.

“Not like _this_.” Fitz’s fingertips stroked the bare skin of her stomach before his palm rested on her hip, his thumb sliding over her hipbone.

Jemma let out a moan at the feel of his warm hand on her skin. “No, definitely not,” she agreed breathlessly.

His hand trailed down her thigh, tracing absent lines over her skin as he admitted shyly, his tone at odds with his wandering hand, “Jem…last night was…well…it was the best night of my life.”

She felt her heart start beating more quickly at the admission as she reached down to place her hand over his on her thigh. “It was the best night of my life too, Leo,” she agreed softly, lacing her fingers through his.

They laid there together in comfortable silence for a long moment, and Jemma closed her eyes at the soothing sound of Fitz’s heartbeat behind her. He must’ve been thinking along the same lines (as usual), as he raised their joined hands and rested them over her heart, and she turned her head to kiss his shoulder.

It was then that Jemma wondered how she could’ve ever thought that a romantic relationship could ruin things between them. It had only made everything better, and it was just like Natasha had said – it was the piece of her that she’d never known was missing.

There was a part of her that was even wondering why they hadn’t been together this entire time. Being with Fitz was like breathing, and it was more than Jemma could’ve ever wished for in a romantic relationship. She’d always thought that she was doomed to never find a romantic partner that was also her intellectual equal. She felt rather silly for being blind to the fact that what she had always wanted was right beside her the entire time.

After some amount of time, Jemma reopened her eyes and glanced at the clock, her heart sinking as she read the time. “I should probably go,” she sighed, the way she tightened her grip on his hand showing how much she actually agreed with her statement.

“I don’t want you to,” Fitz mumbled into her neck, his arm sliding around her waist to hold her closer.

“I don’t want to either,” she admitted softly. “But…everyone will be up soon.”

He gave a small sigh, his breath tickling her skin, causing her to shiver slightly. “Yeah,” he agreed eventually, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

Reluctantly, Jemma began detangling herself from him and slid out of the bed, sifting through the pile of clothes on the floor to find hers. She’d just started redressing when she turned to glance at him and found him watching her. She rolled her eyes fondly and asked pointedly, her tone teasing, “ _Yes_?”

Quickly, Fitz’s gaze darted up to meet hers and he gave her a sheepish smile. “Sorry.”

She finished buttoning her jeans, her shirt still in her hand, and sat down on the edge of the bed, her free hand reaching out to press against his cheek. “Don’t be. We’re together, Leo. You’re allowed to look all you want.”

Fitz’s eyebrows rose, his mouth falling open slightly. “I _am_?”

Jemma couldn’t help but laugh, unable to believe how utterly adorable he was. She leaned over and gave him a lingering kiss before she whispered against his lips, “Yes.” Grinning slyly, she added meaningfully, “But that goes both ways, you know.”

Fitz pulled back a bit, an incredulous look on his face. “Jem, if you want to look, then be my guest. It doesn’t feel like a very fair deal, though. I mean, look at you.” He gestured disbelievingly at where she sat on the edge of his bed in her bra and jeans, her hair falling over her shoulders. “You’re perfect.”

“Would you quit saying that?” she asked, rolling her eyes and shifting further onto the bed to lie across him, her elbow resting on the far side of his pillow. “I’m far from perfect, Leo. And _trust me_ when I say that it’s a _very_ fair deal.”

The tips of his ears turned a bit red as he gave her an embarrassed smile. “Jemma…”

Jemma grinned before closing the small distance between them to give him another warm kiss. She felt his fingers on her bare shoulder, running through her hair, then his hand found the back of her head and pulled her a bit more firmly against him.

When they parted, she sighed and gave him a regretful look and one more kiss, then slid back off the bed and finished dressing. “I’ll see you later,” she told him gently, not moving any closer to the bed, because she knew for sure that she wouldn’t be able to leave a third time.

“Later,” Fitz agreed quietly, his eyes locked on hers telling her just how much he didn’t want her to leave. She understood perfectly, and perhaps even hated this more than he did. This would be the first time that she was away from him for more than an hour or so since the bottom of the ocean and it hurt her more than she’d care to admit. She was terrified that if she took her eyes off of him for too long, he was going to disappear.

But, Jemma knew what she had to do, so she sighed and took the few steps to the door, her hand finding the doorknob as she forced herself to look away and open the door.

She peered out into the hallway, and finding it all clear, she slipped out of Fitz’s room, turning to shut the door behind her. She’d just turned back around, about to make a dash for her own room, when she saw Natasha coming down the hall and froze.

Natasha paused, raising an eyebrow as she surveyed Jemma in her hastily put on clothing – from the day before. Then, she very obviously eyed the door that Jemma was coming out of. “I thought you were in the other hall.”

Jemma blushed, nervously reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “Oh, well, I am. I…I was checking on Leo, given that this is his first night out of the infirmary, and –”

Natasha’s amused chuckle cut Jemma off. Shaking her head, she assured her, “Don’t worry, I’m not going to say anything. I get it. The first night Clint was out of the hospital after Budapest, I wouldn’t have left the bed even if the building caught on fire.”

“I didn’t want to leave,” Jemma found herself admitting. “Everyone knows about us, but it just felt… _odd_ for them to know…what we were doing, I mean.”

“So, you’re just going to sneak out of each other’s rooms every morning?” Natasha asked skeptically. “That doesn’t sound like a very thorough plan.” Helpfully, she reminded Jemma, “This is a new SHIELD, and there are bigger things to worry about than fraternization between agents. Clearly, Coulson’s okay with your relationship, so the only thing you need to deal with is a few teases from the others.” She raised a knowing eyebrow. “Is that really bad enough that you need to sneak around like it’s something to be ashamed of?”

-

Fitz’s eyes cracked open when his door opened back up, and he saw Jemma step back inside. When she began silently stripping down, he opened his eyes completely and sat up a bit. “Jemma?”

All of her clothes back on the floor with his, Jemma rejoined him beneath the covers, pressing her perfect, smooth skin against his. “Natasha kind of caught me coming out of your room, and she reminded me that there’s nothing we have to hide. Everyone knows about us, so what’s the big deal?”

Fitz sank back down to the mattress, pulling Jemma close and setting a silent reminder to himself to thank Natasha Romanoff someday very soon. “Good thing, because I was pretty sure I wasn’t getting back to sleep without you.”

Jemma had buried her face in his shoulder, and he felt her smile at his words before she pressed a kiss there. “Me too.”

-

Forcing herself to remember Natasha’s words, Jemma held her head high as she left Fitz’s room once again, later that morning, uncaring if anyone saw as she shut the door behind her.

However, the hallway was completely empty.

Feeling a bit more confident, Jemma strode down the hall and to the connecting one where her room was. There was a falter in her step when she saw one of the other doors opening, but she took a deep breath and kept going even as Skye came out of her room.

“Jemma Simmons, you animal!” Skye cried teasingly, grinning from ear to ear as she leaned against the doorframe to her own room. “Did you steal Fitz’s virtue last night?”

Jemma gave her a withering look as she typed in the code for her room and opened the door. “No, Leo and I made love.” With that, she entered her room and closed the door behind her, unfortunately missing the wide-eyed, jaw-dropped look of surprise on Skye’s face.

\---

After Fitz was out of the woods and had been cleared by his doctors, the team could focus on other pressing issues, and Coulson had called a meeting in his office to discuss their next steps, briefing them on what the next few months at the least would look like.

“At this point, we don’t have the resources to take on HYDRA on our own,” Coulson started, clasping his hands behind his back, “SHIELD has taken a huge hit, and we need to focus on building ourselves back up. Hopefully, as time goes on, more agents will join us, like Agents Barton and Romanoff have. As of right now, though, we’re at a disadvantage.”

“So we’re just going to let HYDRA run free?” Skye asked in disbelief. “We can’t let them keep growing and _killing_ people! _Ward_ is out there!”

Jemma’s hand grabbed Fitz’s, squeezing tightly, her fingers digging into his palm. He shot her a concerned look, but didn’t say anything.

“We’re not sitting idly,” Coulson answered, “We’re keeping tabs on their movements, and if we see an opportunity, or if we know they’re about to make a move that we can’t allow to happen, we’ll step in. But, we can’t launch any kind of grand assault on them just because of what they’ve done. That’s not a sound strategy. That’s revenge.”

“If you go after HYDRA for revenge, you’re going in too hot, and you’re going to die,” Natasha explained simply.

Skye sighed, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms over her chest. “So I guess it’s just sitting around waiting for something to happen, right?”

“At least we’re all alive,” Clint added, his tone firm. “More than a few SHIELD agents lost their lives to HYDRA.”

Jemma’s grip on Fitz’s hand only tightened, and instead of looking to her for answers, he just squeezed back.

“Exactly,” Coulson agreed solemnly. “So, enjoy whatever down time we have here; it’s not likely to last.”

-

“What’s wrong?”

Jemma continued down the hall without glancing back over her shoulder as she answered, “Nothing is wrong, Leo. I just need to get back to the lab.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it, Jemma. We don’t even _have_ work to be doing in the lab,” Fitz called after her, his footsteps hurried as he tried to keep up with her.

Jemma gave a silent sigh, pressing her lips together to fight back the sudden urge to cry that swept over her. “Yes, well, I should still –”

His hand caught her wrist, and he gently tugged her back to him. “Hey, Jem, talk to me. I know something’s wrong, so you can stop pretending. I want to help.”

Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, Jemma finally spun to face Fitz, and she nearly broke at the concern for her written plainly across his face. “Leo…”

“Talk to me,” he repeated softly, sliding his hand down from her wrist to lace their fingers together. “That’s what I’m here for, Jemma. I’m always here for you.”

_That_ was the final straw. “You almost weren’t!” she burst out, surprising him. “Because of HYDRA! Because of _Ward_!”

He gave a long sigh, his thumb running soothing circles over the back of her hand. “Jemma, I know. I know, okay? I think of it…more than I’d like to admit. Ward tried to _kill_ us – tried to kill _you_ , and I…” He swallowed visibly, the words coming with clear difficulty. “I’m never gonna forget about it, I don’t think I’ll ever be _able_ to, but…it’s in the past. It can’t hurt us anymore, not if we don’t let it. We’re here, aren’t we? We’re not at the bottom of the damn ocean, we’re here at the Playground with Skye and Coulson and May, and most importantly, we’ve got each other.”

Jemma pulled her hand from his to throw her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder, and she felt his arms wrap around her in response. “But you don’t understand. He tried to take that away from us. He…he almost took you away from me.” She pressed herself closer, shaking her head. Softly, as though almost to herself, she whispered, “I _hate_ him, Leo. I want him to die.”

Fitz gave a small sigh, his arms tightening around her. “I know, Jemma. Do you know how much I _hate_ the fact that he’s still walking around, _living_ , after everything he’s done? But, to be honest Jem, would it really make it easier for us to sleep at night, knowing he was dead?”

“I think it would,” Jemma muttered darkly.

“I don’t think it would,” Fitz argued gently. “’Cause I don’t think Ward is really the problem.”

Jemma pulled back a bit to give Fitz an incredulous look. “Of _course_ Ward is the problem! He’s the one that hit the button, Leo!”

“No, no, I know he’s the one that caused it,” Fitz assured her soothingly, one of his hands coming up to cup her cheek. “But, is it really Ward that gives you nightmares? Or, is it the bottom of the ocean? Because I know what it is for me.”

Jemma didn’t want to admit that Fitz was right – she wasn’t afraid of Ward. But, Ward was someone to blame, someone to go after and _hurt_ for what had been done to them. “Leo…”

“We need to accept the fact that…we came pretty damn close, Jemma,” he told her softly, his thumb stroking her cheek, “But, we’re _here_ now. That’s what matters, isn’t it?”

Jemma knew that he didn’t mean the Playground by ‘here’ that time, but that was one of the problems. “Leo, you don’t understand. I…I was so…so _blind_ before. I can’t believe I _never_ even thought…” She shook her head, upset with herself and her naivety. “All that time, you knew exactly how you felt, and I had no idea! You nearly _died_ before I even realized how I truly felt. Leo, what…what _scares_ me is that there was a very real possibility that you were going to die when I was just starting to figure everything out. What if you had, and we never got to know what _this_ felt like? We almost didn’t get _here_.”

“But you can’t focus on that, Jem,” Fitz sighed, “Constantly asking yourself what could’ve happened is only going to hurt you. Focus on the now.” He gave her a warm smile. “Focus on the fact that I love you, Jemma, and we _do_ know what it feels like, and it’s pretty damn perfect, yeah?”

Jemma sighed softly but smiled in response and nodded. “Yes, it is.” She lifted her hand to place over his as she leaned into his touch. “I love you too, Leo. Thank you, for knowing exactly what to say.”

Fitz chuckled, gently tugging her back into his arms and resting his chin on top of her head. “Well, I’ve had a lot of practice. Remember your end of term freak outs?”

Jemma rolled her eyes, pulling away from him a bit to smack him on the shoulder before falling back into his embrace. “Shut up, Leo.”

-

That night found Jemma and Fitz lying side-by-side, struggling for breath. A lazy, satisfied smile spread across Jemma face as she told him breathlessly, “This is something I can definitely get used to.” Dropping her head to the side, she saw his ears reddening a bit, but then he turned to face her, smiling bashfully.

“Yeah, me too,” he agreed, nodding.

Jemma reached out, finding his hand and lacing her fingers through his. “Why weren’t we always having sex?” she asked teasingly, waggling her eyebrows at him.

Fitz made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a groan. “I have _no_ idea.”

Grinning, Jemma shifted a bit to rest her head on his shoulder. Sighing contentedly, she closed her eyes and simply enjoyed being with him, her free hand coming up to stroke absent patterns over his chest.

After some time, Fitz broke the silence by asking softly, “Jem?”

“Mhm?”

“Do…d’you think we’re ever going to be able to beat HYDRA?”

Jemma frowned, opening her eyes and tilting her head up to meet his worried gaze. “What? Why would you say that?”

He gave a little shrug. “Coulson’s right, we’re at a disadvantage. We’re barely a strike team, let alone an entire organization, and there’s no guarantee that anyone else is joining back up. There’s a possibility that…that this is all that SHIELD will ever be again and it’s not enough.”

Jemma rolled onto her stomach to face him better, resting her forearm on his chest. “That’s all true, I suppose. There’s a chance that _maybe_ HYDRA will always have the upper hand, but then again, we’re SHIELD, even if it is just a handful of us, and we’ve proven that we can do still do some pretty amazing things, despite our numbers.”

Fitz’s lips quirked up in a hopeful smile. “Yeah. Yeah, we’re SHIELD. We’re the good guys, so that has to mean we’re gonna win in the end.”

Jemma rolled her eyes fondly. “Well, that’s not _necessarily_ what I meant –”

“But it’s true,” Fitz cut in. “Look at history – the good guys always win in the end, and this will be no different.”

Jemma had always admired Fitz’s optimism, and at times had counted on it to get her through when it looked as though there was no light at the end of the metaphorical tunnel. So, instead of bringing up any of several events she knew to be to the contrary of his statement, she simply murmured, “No, it won’t,” and leaned forward to press her lips against his.

\---

It wasn’t until about a week later that Fitz was in the kitchen, just finishing up his lunch when Natasha Romanoff entered. He returned the smile she gave him a bit awkwardly before clearing his throat, and nervously started what he’d been planning to tell her if he ever found himself alone with her, “I…I um…I kind of feel like I have you to thank…for my relationship with Jemma, I mean.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, her smile still in place. “Not really. You took the first step; you told her how you felt. All I did was give Jemma someone to talk to while she was figuring everything out. I didn’t convince her to give the relationship a shot; I just helped her to realize what she already felt.”

Fitz shook his head as he insisted, “Still, if you hadn’t that conversation with her… Well, I just think that she would’ve taken a lot longer to figure everything out. So…thank you. This is… _she’s_ more than I could have ever imagined.”

“No need to thank me,” Natasha assured him, briefly squeezing his shoulder as she passed him to grab two water bottles from the fridge. “By the way, you’re welcome to come watch Clint and I train; Skye and Jemma are already there.” She rolled her eyes, but was still smiling. “Skye’s convinced that it’s free entertainment.”

-

When Natasha returned with Fitz, Skye called to him eagerly, “Fitz, did you come to see the show?”

Fitz joined the two women on the bench off to the side of the room, sitting beside Jemma and finding her hand with his automatically. “Natasha said you guys were here to watch, so I figured it must be interesting.”

“Oh, it will be,” Skye assured him, practically buzzing with excitement. “I mean, come on, how often do we get to see two of SHIELD’s best agents sparring?”

Natasha and Clint had apparently already warmed up, as Natasha was cracking her knuckles and slowly circling around Clint as she called over her shoulder, “You guys want to see what it really means to be field partners for over a decade?”

Skye’s eyes lit up. “Hell yes!”

Natasha had a feral grin on her face as she struck out with a fist at Clint. As he ducked it, she swung around with her leg and caught him in the chest. He was thrown back a bit, but he managed to grab her ankle, stopping her retreat.

She used the momentum to swing around, her thighs around his neck as she took him down the floor effortlessly. However, he was quickly pushing himself up onto his knees, sweeping her legs out from under her.

Natasha hit the floor, but was springing back up in seconds, giving Clint the time to get back up as well. In a quick, blurred movement, Natasha began a series of precise punches at his torso that Clint mostly managed to dodge.

He threw a punch of his own aimed at her jaw that Natasha effortlessly dodged, bending her body backwards, her hands hitting the mat beneath her. Both of her legs came up in a swift kick to his knees before she was springing backwards in a flip, landing smoothly on her feet.

Clint didn’t even hesitate to follow her retreat, ducking to avoid her roundhouse kick and grabbing her around the waist. Natasha simply flipped herself over his arm and ended up behind him, throwing her arm around his neck.

His hand shot up and grabbed her wrist, yanking on it and using it to spin her around and pull her to him, pressing her hand into her back, his other arm wrapping tight around her shoulders.

Natasha jerked her head back to crack her skull against his nose, his distraction giving her the time to slip out of his hold and to get a good enough grip on him to throw him onto his back on the ground.

She was on him in moments, attempting to pin him to the mat. But, he used his weight to shove her off of him and onto the ground, taking the advantage and pressing her back into it.

Natasha kicked her legs up to wrap them around his waist. Giving a twist of her hips, she flipped them once more, her on top of him. She locked her hands around his wrists and slammed them into the mat, her entire weight pressing down on his chest.

“Give?” she demanded, leaning down a bit to meet his eyes.

Clint made a valiant effort to try and get out of the hold, but then he gave up, settling in to the mat and nodding slightly. “I give.”

Natasha had finally pinned him, straddling his chest, her hands holding his wrists, both of their chests heaving and sweat dripping off of both of them. “You’ll have to excuse him, he’s out of practice,” she called a bit breathlessly to their stunned onlookers.

Grinning, Natasha rolled off of Clint, standing and holding out a hand to him. He allowed her to help pull him up, and they shared a heated look before crossing the room to join the three younger agents.

“Oh…my god,” Skye mumbled, her eyes wide. Meanwhile, Fitz and Jemma were completely speechless, gaping at the older agents.

“In the field, I would’ve been able to end that fight a lot sooner, but Clint knows my moves almost as well as I know them myself. It’s what being partners for so long does to you.” She gave Jemma a sly smirk that had the other girl blushing.

“It’s the only reason I can hold out against her for that long,” Clint added, chuckling. “In the beginning, she could kick my ass in two seconds flat.”

“But, he’s okay with it because he knows he’ll always be able to beat me in aim,” Natasha explained, rolling her eyes as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Me and everyone else.”

Skye’s eyes lit up once more. “ _Ooh_! Are we gonna get to see Hawkeye in action too?!”

Clint silently picked up one of the knives Natasha always carried on her but had removed for sparring. He hefted it for a moment before throwing it blindly over his shoulder and not even turning to watch it sail through the air before it hit one of the targets set up off to the side dead center.

There was a series of gasps from the younger agents at the spectacular feat, but Natasha just rolled her eyes at Clint for showing off.

“That’s…that’s…” Fitz attempted to speak, stumbling over the words in his shock.

“Physically impossible!” Jemma cried, finishing Fitz’s half-sentence.

“Seriously, how did you do that?” Skye demanded, clearly excited at the idea that she could learn to do that as well.

Clint gave a shrug. “Been working on my aim most of my life. Some of it’s natural talent, the rest is hard-earned skill.”

Skye’s shoulders sagged a bit at that. “No wonder you’re a sniper,” she commented half-heartedly.

Jemma and Fitz were still having difficulty accepting what they’d just witnessed. “How did he…?” Fitz was mumbling as he got up and crossed the room to inspect the target with the knife sticking out of it.

Jemma had followed him, and was peering at the target curiously. “Is there a magnet in the target?” she called over her shoulder.

Clint chuckled, shaking his head. “No magnets.”

“Maybe there’s –” Fitz started, but he was interrupted by Natasha’s amused voice.

“Do all the experiments you want on him, guys, it’s all pure skill and talent, like Clint said.”

Both Fitz and Jemma’s eyes lit up. “Ooh, can we?!” she asked excitedly.

Clint gave Natasha a betrayed look. “Did you just offer me up to be a lab rat, Tasha?”

Natasha smirked as she grabbed her water bottle and took a sip. “Of course not.” After a beat, she added, “Hawks _eat_ rats.”

His only answer was a scowl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, let me just say that I have never learned how to fight, let alone been in one, so my attempt at the Natasha/Clint sparring was just that – an attempt. I’m sorry if it wasn’t very well written, but I tried my best so I hope it’s at least okay.  
> Oh! And I forgot to mention that Ward isn't in their basement, and that he escaped not long after Garrett was defeated.


	5. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone, meet ‘I’m-going-save-the-world-and-everyone-in-it’ Jemma Simmons. The scene in this chapter where Natasha explains what the Red Room is to Fitzsimmons was one of the first I wrote, and it was supposed to be a whole lot simpler, but then Jemma decided to take on the crusade against the Red Room (seriously, I never planned that) and I just went with it, and the story took off from there, and I promise that it is a major part of the plot, which is why the scene plays out like it does.
> 
> And this is also where I must repeat, Natasha always has a reason for the things she does, and her reasoning behind sharing her past is in the next chapter, so don’t worry, and I’m sorry if it (our any other part of the chapter) seems OOC to anyone.

Jemma was just leaving the lab when she saw Natasha walking down the hall nearby, and she hurried to catch up with the older woman. “Natasha!”

Natasha paused at the sound of her name, turning and giving Jemma a small smile. “Jemma.”

“I meant to tell you the other day, but, well…I understand now, why everyone says that you’re the best,” Jemma said, giving a little laugh. “I’d hate to be up against you in a fight.”

Natasha shrugged, and it wasn’t even modestly, it was clear that it really was just _nothing_ to her. “It’s not that impressive.”

Jemma’s jaw dropped. “Yes, of _course_ it is! That kind of skill…it’s amazing.”

Suddenly, Natasha raised an eyebrow and asked curiously, “How much training do you have, Jemma?”

Jemma flushed a bit in embarrassment, nervously shuffling her feet. “Oh, well…I…I know the proper way to throw a punch.” Then, she frowned as she rethought. “I think.”

Natasha’s eyebrow rose higher, this time in disbelief. “SHIELD didn’t teach you anything?”

“Oh, they did!” Jemma assured her. “But…well, Leo and I didn’t really do too well in those classes, and we were always more focused on our lab assignments, anyway.”

“No wonder you didn’t pass your field assessments,” Natasha commented, shaking her head. Then, she gave Jemma a grin. “So, how about I train you?”

Jemma’s eyes grew wide with surprise. “ _Train_ me?” she repeated incredulously. “Whatever for? I’m not a field agent!”

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” Natasha insisted. Then, her smirk faded into something more serious. “And, if you’re going to keep going out into the field, field agent or not, you’re going to have know at least some self-defense.”

“Well…yes,” Jemma reluctantly agreed. “That is true.” She chewed her lip for a moment before she sighed and asked, “But…it’s going to hurt, isn’t it?”

“Not too much.”

-

Much to Jemma’s displeasure, Natasha had insisted they begin immediately, and had led her straight to the empty training room after Jemma had finished up in the lab.

Then, they were standing in the middle of the mats, facing each other and Jemma could only remember the viciousness with which Natasha had struck out against Clint and winced.

She knew enough to get herself _out_ of a fight; she wasn’t really clear on what to do when she had to actually _fight_.

Nervously, she held up her hands in front of her face, closing her eyes tight and tensing as she waited. But, when nothing happened, she cracked open one eye and found Natasha with her hands on her hips, an eyebrow raised. Slowly lowering her hands, Jemma asked, “What?”

“This isn’t a street fight, Jemma. I’m not just going to jump on you and start throwing punches. This is about _technique_. I’m going to show you, not attack you and expect you to know how to defend yourself.”

Jemma flushed in embarrassment. “Oh. Right. Of course.”

“Alright,” Natasha started, holding out her hand and curling it into a fist. “Make sure to keep your thumb outside of your fingers, or else it’ll break when you make contact with your target.”

“Right.” Jemma nodded, recalling as much from the few instructions she remembered from the Academy, and really, it _was_ common sense. She repeated the gesture, making a proper fist.

Natasha then demonstrated, slowly, the right form to take when preparing for a punch, pulling her arm back and swinging it forward before gesturing for Jemma to try it.

_This is easy enough_ , Jemma thought to herself, allowing a small smile to slip through as she repeated the move flawlessly.

“Okay,” Natasha said, giving a nod to show that Jemma had it, “when you’re delivering a proper kick, make sure to keep your core tight and all of your weight on the opposite leg. Keep your balance and follow through.” She demonstrated this as well, giving one of the punching bags in the room a swift roundhouse kick that made the bag shudder.

After Natasha showed her a few more basic moves that Jemma was able to quickly grasp, Natasha had them back in the center of the room, and _dear god_ she was in a fighting stance.

“Come at me,” she told Jemma firmly.

Jemma’s eyes widened as she took a step back. “But…but…you said you were going to show me how to do it, not attack me!”

Natasha gave her a look, raising an eyebrow. “I’m not attacking you, Jemma. I’m giving you a chance to practice what you just learned. It’s not good enough to just know the mechanics of it; you have to know how to use them in action.”

Hands shaking, Jemma gave a little nod and took a tiny step forward before she threw a punch. Natasha easily dodged it, and before Jemma even knew what was happening, she was on her back on the mat, staring up at the ceiling, a small groan leaving her lips.

_Scratch that – not easy. Not easy_ at all.

-

Later, Jemma was not only physically sore, but was also nursing a pretty sore ego as she entered the lounge and found Fitz there, and she plopped down beside him in defeat. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he responded, sounding a bit surprised at her sudden appearance, but he still moved closer to her until they were practically pressed together. “Where were you?” he asked curiously, reaching out and absently curling a strand of her hair around his fingers.

Jemma blushed as she admitted, “I…um…well, Natasha insisted that she teach me some self-defense.”

Fitz’s eyebrows rose in clear surprise. “Really?” When Jemma nodded, his surprise melted into approval. “Good.”

Jemma arched an eyebrow. “ _Good_?” she repeated.

His eyes widened and he quickly held up his hands. “Whoa, wait, Jem! I didn’t mean that you couldn’t defend yourself or anything, it’s just…Black Widow is like _the_ best fighter in the world, right? And if she’s teaching you, then you’ll be…extra safe if the situation ever arises.”

After a moment of letting him squirm, Jemma finally let out a long sigh, sagging a bit. “You don’t have to lie, Leo. I’m actual rubbish at it. Natasha had me pinned in less than a second. _Every. Time_. The only thing I’ve learned so far is to avoid physical fights at all costs.”

“I’m sure when she started, Natasha wasn’t a very good fighter either,” Fitz assured Jemma soothingly. “And look where she is now. It’s gonna take some time, but the end result is worth it, yeah?”

Jemma looked contemplative for a moment before she said thoughtfully, “I wonder how old she was when she started fighting. She isn’t even that old, and yet she’s already so skilled. She’s younger than Clint and she could beat him like nothing a _decade_ ago.”

Fitz now looked thoughtful as well. “Perhaps you should ask. I’m sure it’s an interesting story.” His gaze drifted over her shoulder. “Oh! Well, here’s your chance.”

Jemma turned, finding Natasha walking into the lounge. “Natasha!” she called, waving to the older woman.

Natasha gave Jemma a small smile as she crossed the room and sat down across from the couple. “Hello Jemma, Fitz. What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing,” Jemma said, “I was just telling Leo about you teaching me self-defense, and we were wondering how old you were when you started learning to fight.”

All of a sudden, Natasha’s face was completely and utterly expressionless, her eyes blank, and Jemma felt a frisson on fear crawl up her spine.

“Why?” Natasha asked, her voice toneless.

Jemma blinked, sharing a horrified look with Fitz before she quickly apologized, “I’m so sorry, you don’t have to tell us! It was just a question! We…we were trying to figure out how you were already so skilled when you’re so young, but clearly it’s none of our business. I’m so sorry for asking.”

For another moment, Natasha’s expression lingered, but then she dropped her head, letting out a heavy sigh. “It’s not your fault, Jemma. You had no idea.” She took a deep breath, her shoulders rising and falling with it. “I started learning to fight when I was five.”

“ _Five_?!” Jemma and Fitz cried in absolute shock.

Natasha nodded, still not raising her head. “I was trained to fight, to win, to _kill_. I spent nearly every day of my life for _years_ being taught all the most effective ways to take down an opponent and take them out. I had to become the best – failure was rewarded with…” She shook her head. “That’s not important. But, when we were old enough, we were sent out to seduce and kill anyone that _they_ wanted us to. I was twelve.”

Jemma was shivering by the end of Natasha’s story, horror running through her as she realized what Natasha must have endured. She felt Fitz’s arm wrapping around her, pulling her into his comforting embrace. “Oh, Natasha, that’s…”

“Gruesome? Unfair? Sickening?” Natasha gave a hollow laugh. “You don’t even know the half of it.” Slowly, she raised her head, a faraway look in her eyes. “It all changed when I met Clint. He was sent to kill me, and caught me in the middle of one of my missions. He…saw something in me, something that it took me many years to see myself. He brought me into SHIELD instead, and…he saved my life. When I can feel the horrors of my past crawling back up to attempt to smother me, Clint is there to pull me out of it. _That_ is why I can’t imagine my life without him, because without him I wouldn’t _have_ a life.”

Jemma soaked this in for a long moment, feeling Fitz’s thumb stroking over her ribs, his fingers bunched in the material of her shirt, before she asked carefully, “Who were _they_? The ones who…”

“Trained me?” Natasha finished, her jaw clenching as she spat out, “The Red Room. They’re based in Russia, and steal young girls from their families and _program_ them, turning them into mindless killers.”

“Wait…” Fitz looked horrified as he realized something. “You’re using the present tense.”

Natasha briefly closed her eyes, giving a small, solemn nod. “They’re still alive and thriving, churning out more and more Black Widows every year.”

“It still _exists_?!” Jemma cried in shock. “Why didn’t SHIELD stop them?”

“What could SHIELD have done?” Natasha asked realistically. “Jemma, think about it. They’ve trained at least a hundred girls by now just like they trained me, and they’re all brainwashed into doing whatever the hell the Red Room wants them to. Granted, quite a few get killed in the field and in training, but, it would still be a hell of a feat to take them down.”

“But…but…” Jemma shuddered as she thought of all the poor girls still there and that would be taken in the future. Fitz’s arm tightened around her in response. “That’s immoral. We _know_ it’s happening, and we’re just turning a blind eye?”

Natasha gave a long sigh. “If SHIELD hadn’t fallen apart at the seams, _maybe_ we could’ve called upon the Avengers for help and taken a SHIELD strike team and taken them out. _Maybe_. But, that isn’t a possibility anymore.”

“Of course it is!” Jemma cried. “SHIELD is still alive! _We’re_ SHIELD! And that means we have a duty to protect people!"

“Jemma,” Fitz murmured soothingly, running his hand along her side to try and calm her down.

“Don’t _Jemma_ me, Leopold Fitz! We can’t just sit here, knowing that _children_ are being forced to fight and kill! We _can’t_.” She turned back to Natasha, seeking something more, something that would impress upon them how important this really was. “You said it was more than that. What could possibly be worse?”

Natasha seemed to know Jemma was just looking for more fuel to add to the fire. “You really don’t need to hear about it, Jemma. Trust me.”

“I _want_ to,” Jemma insisted. “I don’t need to be protected from the horrors of the world, Natasha. If it’s happening – if it happened to _you_ – then we need to stop it.” She knew that they both thought she was acting irrationally, and maybe she was just a bit, but it was more irrational to just sit by idly and let the Red Room continue its abuse.

Natasha scooted to the edge of her seat, leaning across the space between them to place a hand over Jemma’s. “You don’t know how much it means to me that you care so much, Jemma. But…” She sighed, shaking her head. “If we try and go in there now, it’s incredibly likely that we’re all going to die, and then what will be left of SHIELD? HYDRA has to be our first priority. Once we take them out, and build SHIELD back up, _maybe_ we can go after the Red Room. But, that’s on the back burner for now, okay?”

Jemma’s bottom lip trembled just slightly, and she gave a little sniffle as her rage faded into helplessness – a feeling Jemma happened to hate vividly. “They’re abusing those girls, aren’t they? Physically and…”

Natasha’s response was a soft sigh before she told Jemma quietly, her gaze faraway once more, “Eventually, you learn to block it all out. I used to close my eyes and imagine that I was _anywhere_ else in the world. I’d think of someplace warm, because it was always so cold…” She shook her head, shaking away whatever thoughts that statement had brought up in her mind, and refocusing. “But, it gets the girls ready for when they have to seduce their targets. You have to become…something else, some kind of…raw, sexual entity, or else the target won’t follow you away from the crowd and you lose your chance to get the job done.”

Jemma’s eyes slid closed, a few tears managing to slip past her defenses and fall down her cheeks, her stomach rolling with nausea. “God, Natasha…I’m so sorry.”

Natasha patted her hand comfortingly. “It’s… I dealt with it a long time ago, Jemma. I have Clint, and he keeps it all at bay. I never have to take anyone to bed that I don’t want to – nobody but him – ever again, and that…is the most freeing thing in the world.”

Swallowing roughly, Jemma reopened her eyes, meeting Natasha’s sympathetic gaze, and felt incredibly guilty at the fact that Natasha was offering _her_ comfort when she wasn’t the one who had been through all that. “I want you to train me, Natasha. _When_ we take down the Red Room, I want to be there with you.”

Natasha glanced at Fitz, and Jemma figured there was complete horror on his face at that statement. Still, Natasha squeezed Jemma’s hand and told her, “Whatever you want, Jemma.” With a final squeeze, she stood and left the room.

Jemma turned to Fitz, who seemed about to say something. She shook her head and threw her arms around his neck, pressing her face against his shoulder, a few more tears escaping. She felt his arms pulling her tight against his chest, his face burying in her hair, and she pulled him closer in response.

“It…it could be _anyone_ ,” Fitz whispered, his voice choked, “ _God_ , it could’ve been _you_ , Jemma.”

“I’m not Russian,” Jemma reminded him in a poor attempt at a joke, despite the way her voice seemed to shake.

Fitz’s arms tightened around her. “That’s not the point, Jem. It doesn’t even have to be the Red Room. This could happen _anywhere_ , to _anyone_. I…I…” His words cut off with a choked sound that Jemma assumed was a sob he was trying incredibly hard to hold back. “I couldn’t handle it if that happened to you.”

Jemma pressed kisses to his neck and shoulder, digging her fingers into the back of his shirt to hold him closer. “It won’t,” she assured him. “I’m right here.” Against his neck, she murmured, “But this is why we need to stop them, Leo. Because they do these horrible things and don’t even _care_ how it affects those girls and there’s no one to stop them if we don’t.”

“But you heard what Natasha said. We have to focus on HYDRA and building SHIELD back up before we can even think about going after the Red Room,” Fitz reminded her gently. She knew that he’d never liked saying no to her, and always had an incredibly difficult time with it when he felt he had to. “I’m not saying that it doesn’t need to happen,” he hastened to add when she opened her mouth indignantly, “but it just can’t happen right now. SHIELD is too fragile, and going in now would only hurt us, not help anyone. It’s like Natasha said to Skye about HYDRA – if you go in for revenge, you’re only to get hurt, or _worse_.”

Jemma understood what he was trying to say, even if she didn’t necessarily agree with him, so she just buried her face further between his shoulder and neck and took the comfort he so readily offered. He simply held her tighter, and Jemma, knowing how he thought as well as she did, knew that he was probably wondering how he was supposed to protect her from all those bad things out there. She didn’t bother reminding him that she could protect herself.


	6. Chapter Five

It was Friday night at the Playground, which meant it was the night that Coulson had deemed ‘team bonding night’. Natasha and Clint were usually happy to stay _out_ of this, arguing to Coulson when he’d tried to insist that _technically_ they weren’t part of his team.

  
However, tonight, as they’d been heading back to their room to try and avoid said bonding, Jemma passed them in the hall and stopped them, asking excitedly, “Are you coming tonight? Skye said that Koenig made a special trip off the base and got pizza!”

“And other than pizza, what should we expect?” Natasha asked suspiciously, ignoring the look Clint shot her at the somewhat acceptance.

Jemma clasped her hands together in front her, rocking back and forth on her heels. “Oh, well, Coulson decided we’ll play board games tonight.”

Clint snorted, and Natasha knew he was probably wondering – much like she was – when Coulson had decided to turn his team into his children. “Board games?” Natasha repeated skeptically.

Jemma gave a little sigh. “I shouldn’t have told you that, should I? Now you’re not going to want to come.”

Natasha pressed her lips together, glancing at Clint, who wasn’t even bothering to hide it as he shook his head. Turning back to Jemma, Natasha rolled her eyes at the pout that Jemma always threw at Fitz to get him to agree with her when he was resisting whatever she wanted to do. “ _One time_ ,” she stressed, pointing a finger dangerously at Jemma. “We will come to your ‘bonding night’ _one time_ , and if I want to kill myself by the end of it, we’re never doing it again. Clear?”

“As crystal!” Jemma cried happily, grinning at the two, before she frowned a bit. “Though, technically, crystal isn’t _always_ clear, really, the saying should be clear as –”

Natasha was not about to let that sentence continue, knowing that Jemma would probably be rambling on and on for far longer than she was willing to listen to. “ _Jemma_.”

Jemma cut herself off, wincing. “Oh, sorry.” She took a step back, her grin returning quickly. “I’ll see you later, then!” She gave them a wave before she continued down the hall toward the lab.

Natasha turned to Clint, finding him with his arms crossed, an accusatory look on his face. “ _You_ try saying no to her next time,” she snapped, her hands on her hips.

“You do realize she just played us, right?”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Of course I do. But…it can’t be the worst thing ever, right? We just have to live through one night of board games with Coulson…” she gave a delicate shudder, “and _Melinda May_ and then it’s over.”

Clint’s gaze was hard for a moment before suddenly, his lips quirked and he raised an eyebrow. Teasingly, he commented, “You know, I’m pretty sure we’ve adopted her.”

“You’re probably right,” Natasha agreed with a laugh. “And she comes as a package deal, so we’ve probably adopted him too.”

“ _Great_. I must be starting a collection; first Russia, then England, now Scotland…”

Natasha shot him a mock-annoyed look. “Oh hush, you love accents.”

“Actually, I really hate them. ‘Cept yours, of course. But heavy accents are a pain in the ass to try and follow when you’re trying to keep an eye on your damn target.”

Natasha rolled her eyes at him. “Wimp.”

He elbowed her playfully, which she skillfully dodged. “How’s her training going?”

Sighing, Natasha crossed her arms over her chest. “She’s improving.”

“So why do you sound upset about it, Nat? I thought the whole point was her getting better?”

“It _is_ , but…” She sighed, shaking her head, reaching up to press two fingers against her temple. “I made the wrong decision, telling her about the Red Room.” It had been a quickly made decision, inspired by Jemma’s questions about when she’d learned to fight. Natasha had figured she had nothing to lose, given that it was all information open to the public anyway, thanks to her information dump. But, clearly she hadn’t thought it out enough.

“But, I thought you said the whole point of you telling her was to give her more drive?” Clint asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It was,” Natasha agreed. “But, it worked _too_ well, Clint. I think I went too far. Now, she’s _determined_ to learn how to fight, to…I don’t know, fight all the evils in the world, or something. I wanted her to learn for _her_ , not everyone else. She’s going about it all wrong.” Natasha shook her head, visibly upset – but only to Clint, of course.

“Maybe you can talk to Fitz, and he can talk to her. If no one else, I’m sure he can get through to her,” Clint suggested helpfully.

Natasha thought on that for a moment before she admitted, “I’m not sure he’d get it either, Clint. I know all he wants is for her to be safe.” She sighed, shaking her head. “You know that I never question Coulson’s decisions, but…I don’t think he should have let them in the field. Not without passing the field assessments.”

“It’s too late for should’ves, Tasha,” Clint reminded her softly. “All we have to do now is try and keep them alive.”

Natasha turned to peer up at him. “Does that mean you’re thinking of offering to train Fitz?”

Clint gave a small nod. “He needs it just as much as her. Maybe if they’d been better trained, the entire ocean thing could’ve been avoided.”

“We could do joint sessions,” Natasha offered, “That way, we can demonstrate, and they can spar together. They’re at the same physical level, and we won’t have to worry about hurting them and setting back their training.” She knew that they wouldn’t have the luxury of time for much longer, and she wanted Fitz and Jemma to be at least able to hold their own when the inevitable fight with HYDRA came.

-

 _Bonding night_ was turning out to not be as horrible as Natasha had thought it would be. They’d started the night sitting around the lounge and eating pizza, and she, Coulson, May, and Clint had regaled the younger agents with stories of past field missions, and Skye had interjected to make comments when Fitz and Jemma weren’t cutting in to ask about a million questions.

After most of the pizza had been eaten, Coulson broke out the game of choice. “Taboo?” Natasha read the name on the box, arching an eyebrow.

“It’ll be fun,” Coulson assured her. “The object of the game is to get your partner to guess as many words as possible in the time allotted without saying any of the _taboo_ words on the card.” He opened the box and held up a card to show them what he meant. “It’s a partner game, so I’ll act as the judge to make sure no one says any of the taboo words.”

Years ago, Natasha would have never believed that she’d be sitting in an underground base with _Phil fucking Coulson_ explaining the rules of a board game to her and a bunch of other agents, but things had certainly changed, and it almost…made her heart warm to see domestic Coulson.

“Ooh! Leo and I will be partners!” Jemma called out excitedly.

“I’ll take this idiot,” Natasha added, elbowing Clint in the ribs. He threw a look at her.

Skye glanced awkwardly at May’s ever-impassive face. “So…I guess that leaves you and me, May.”

Once the game had actually started, they all realized a critical error they’d made in allowing Jemma and Fitz to pair up. They _already_ finished each other’s sentences – all they had to do sometimes was say a few words, and the other was quick to guess correctly what they meant.

Once, the word had been “chemistry”, and Jemma had immediately started, “Oooh! We met –”

And Fitz had quickly responded, “Chemistry.”

Skye had subsequently cried out, “Who _allowed_ this?!”

Although, it had been amusing when Skye had been reading for May, and she’d used the clue, “Oh, Fitz and Simmons!” with a huge grin on her face.

Jemma had leaned over to Fitz and could be heard whispering excitedly, “It must be scientists!”

But, May had immediately guessed, “Geeks, nerds.”

Ignoring the affronted gasps from Jemma and Fitz, Skye had cried, “Yes, geeks!”

In the end, Jemma and Fitz had _obviously_ won, with a score that had to be record-breaking of thirty-seven, with Natasha and Clint coming in second with a not-so horrible seventeen, and Skye and May in last place with nine.

“Next time, they’re getting broken up,” Skye muttered, rolling her eyes at where Fitz and Jemma were grinning happily, clearly quite proud of themselves.

\---

The next morning, Natasha came into the kitchen, finding Jemma and Fitz making tea side-by-side. They both looked up at the same time and smiled at her. “Did you and Clint have fun last night?” she asked, her eyes lighting up.

Grudgingly, Natasha admitted, “It wasn’t the worst thing in the world.”

Jemma smile grew and she nudged Fitz playfully. “I told you.”

“That _doesn’t_ mean you should expect us to be recurring guests, though,” Natasha added, raising an eyebrow.

“Understood,” Jemma assured her, nodding. Then, brightly, she told Natasha, “I’m all ready for training.”

“About that,” Natasha started, leaning up against the counter. “Clint and I were talking last night, and we decided that, if you want to of course, you could join us, Fitz.”

Fitz’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Me? In training?”

“Jemma did mention that you both didn’t do too well in your defense classes at the Academy, as well as your field assessments. You could benefit from it.”

Jemma turned to Fitz, nodding quickly. “I think it’s a good idea, Leo. I’ve learned so much, and it’s been quite helpful.”

Fitz swirled his spoon around in his mug, clearly thinking it over. “I don’t know…”

“Oh please, Leo.” Jemma grabbed onto her arm, a pleading look on her face. “It’ll be more fun with you there, anyway!”

Fitz glanced down at her, just in time to see her pout, and he sighed and rolled his eyes. “Oh, alright.”

“Thank you.” Jemma was clearly pleased with herself as she pecked his cheek.

Natasha was amused at the young couple, but didn’t let it show on her face as she told them firmly, “Training room in twenty.”

-

"Now, we need to have a conversation before we do anything else. We're all adults here," Natasha began, causing both Fitz and Jemma to stare at her in horror of what was clearly coming. "When you're sparring with someone that you're in a sexual relationship with –"

"Oh my god," Jemma mumbled, her face turning red, while Fitz seemed incapable of anything close to actual words to form an actual response.

"…it can be hard to control yourself," Natasha continued, ignoring them. Clint gave a nod beside her, clearly showing his agreement. "Sparring creates _a lot_ of adrenaline, and I just want to you two to be aware ahead of time, because the very last thing we want to see is you two wanting to jump each other's bones on the mat."

"That won't be a problem," Jemma assured her instantly, Fitz beside her nodding quickly.

Natasha hid a smirk as she gave a sharp nod. “Alright, so now that we’re clear, get changed and we’ll start with defense.” Fitz and Jemma began heading to the locker room, and Natasha called to their backs, “Try not to get too distracted!”

They both paused, and Natasha imagined the horrified blushes on their faces before they quickly disappeared into the locker room.

“Somehow I get the impression that you enjoyed that too much,” Clint commented.

Natasha smirked up at him, her hands on her hips. “What gives you that idea?”

Clint rolled his eyes at her, moving away from her a bit to do some stretching as Natasha began setting up the mats in the middle of the room.

Fitz was the first out of the locker room, and Clint gestured for him to come join him. “Now, Natasha’s specialty is hand-to-hand combat. Mine, I’m sure you know, is shooting.” He straightened out of his last stretch and raised an eyebrow at Fitz as he asked, “You know how to hold a gun, right?”

Fitz looked affronted at the question, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yes I bloody well know how to hold a gun. I designed the ICER for god’s sake!”

“Co-designed,” Jemma called as she reentered the room in the tight black capris and sports bra Natasha had insisted on since they’d begun training.

Fitz gaped at her, his eyes wide. Clint gave a low sigh, snapping his fingers in front of Fitz’s face as Jemma blushed and looked away. “C’mon, Fitz, we _just_ had the sexual tension conversation.”

 _That_ snapped Fitz out of it.

“I – I _wasn’t_ …” he attempted to defend himself, but just stopped talking when Clint raised a knowing eyebrow.

“Let’s get started,” Natasha said, hands on her hips. “So, first things first, this isn’t going to be easy. You’re going to bruise, you’re going to bleed, and you’re going to ache. But, most importantly, you’re going to be _stronger_ , and that’s what will keep you alive in the field.” Giving a firm nod as though it was the end of that, she said, “Alright, we’ll begin with basic self-defense. Fitz, you’ll start as the attacker.”

“Of course,” Fitz muttered, rolling his eyes.

Ignoring Fitz’s comment, Natasha began instructing, “If an attacker catches you by surprise and comes up behind you,” Clint easily followed her instruction and came up behind her, his arms wrapping around her waist, “There are several ways to get out of it and get the fight back on your terms. The easiest is an elbow to the gut while simultaneously grinding your heel into their foot.” She demonstrated this technique, Clint’s arms releasing her so that she could turn to him and enter a fighting stance.

“Oh, I think I get it,” Jemma said happily, turning to Fitz.

Natasha came out of her stance, nodding to them. “Go ahead and give it a try.”

Fitz moved behind Jemma, and his arms came around her from behind, his chest pressing against his back and his forearms pressed against the bare skin of her stomach. Jemma’s expression changed to one of complete distraction, looking a bit breathless, as though she was just about to melt into Fitz’s arms.

“Jemma!” Natasha snapped. “Elbow! Heel!”

Jemma responded immediately, breaking out of her trance and jerking her elbow back without thinking, practically smashing her right heel down onto Fitz’s foot at the same time. He let out a loud cry, releasing her quickly and stumbling a bit before falling on his backside, grabbing his stomach.

She spun around, her hands flying to her mouth in horror. “Oh no! Leo, I’m so sorry!” She dropped to her knees beside him, her hands fluttering uselessly between his two injuries.

“I think you’re good, Jem,” he wheezed out, then groaned, as the talking obviously hurt his stomach too much.

Clint gave Natasha a look as she grimaced slightly, watching Jemma apologizing profusely to her boyfriend. “Easy, huh?”

“So…we’ve got our work cut out for us.” Natasha shrugged, turning to meet his gaze, determination in hers. “It’s not like we had anything else going on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because Fitzsimmons and Taboo is too good an opportunity to pass up.
> 
> And just a little advance warning, there's a bit of a time jump between this chapter and the next, just a couple months, and then the main plot really begins.


	7. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so like I said there is a time jump between the last chapter and this one of a few months, which is only to get the main plot going. However, there might end up being little "outtake" type scenes at some point from those few months, just to let everyone know.

For a moment, they simply stood tensely across from one another, watching the other for any sign of movement.

Then, Jemma struck, throwing a perfect punch at his face. Fitz managed to mostly dodge, but her fist still caught him in the jaw, and he stumbled back a bit, but regained his balance easily in time to dodge a second punch.

After that, it became a flurry of missed kicks and punches as they managed to duck and weave to miss each other’s attempted blows, reading each other as easily as they always had.

Jemma was _almost_ able to pin Fitz at one point after perfectly executing a sweep of her leg to knock him off his feet, but Fitz rolled out of the way just in time. He was back on his feet moments before her, giving him the time to come up behind her and attempt the same hold they’d begun with, wrapping his arms around her and holding tight.

This time, Jemma used just the right amount of force to get him to break his hold, and she spun around and came back with a roundhouse kick aimed at his side.

Though it hit its mark and made contact, Fitz was able to catch her ankle and cause Jemma to lose her balance. Not a second after her back had hit the mats, he was over her, pinning her to the ground, using his full weight to keep her there.

Fitz’s body draped over Jemma’s, his hands locked around her wrists and pressing them against the mats. They were both breathing hard and quite sweaty, but all Jemma could see was his eyes dark blue and intense as he stared down at her.

“Do we need a bucket of cold water?”

Jemma and Fitz both looked over quickly at Natasha’s contemplative question, and saw her raised eyebrow and her hands planted on her hips.

“I mean, I know it was awhile ago, but we did have the ‘no jumping each other’s bones on the mat’ conversation, right?” Natasha went on, her eyebrow rising further.

Flushing, Jemma managed to push Fitz off of her and sit up, brushing away a strand of hair that had stuck to her sweaty forehead. “Sorry.”

Natasha and Clint shared a glance before he stated, “Your forms are clearly improving, and you’re definitely sharpening those skills. You’re still not lasting as long as you need to be, but it’s a much better time than you started with, and not bad for your first time really sparring.”

Jemma exchanged a glance with Fitz before they both said in unison, “Thanks.”

A sly grin played around Natasha’s lips as she commented off-handedly, “Practice is over, and the locker room is empty.” With that, she and Clint left the training room.

There was another wordless glance between Fitz and Jemma before they were both on their feet and in the locker room in moments. Jemma found her back pressed against the lockers, not even caring as the lock dug into her lower back, as Fitz’s lips claimed hers heatedly.

Jemma moaned into his mouth, her leg wrapping around his hips and yanking him closer, grinding against him. Her nails dug into the material over his shoulders before she decided that it needed to go and began tugging it up desperately. He broke the kiss long enough to jerk it over his head and throw it on the floor, Jemma’s sports bra following it.

Their lips reconnected, and he grabbed her hips. With a little jump from her, her legs were around his waist and she was pressed between Fitz and the lockers. He was giving off burning heat, and the metal behind her was freezing, and she shuddered at the difference in temperature.

“You’re so fucking _hot_ ,” he groaned as he slid his lips down over her jaw and to her neck, his teeth scraping over her pulse point. Jemma sucked in a breath, burying the fingers of one hand in his sweaty curls, the fingernails of the other dragging up his bare back. “ _God_ Jemma.”

Jemma managed to toe her shoes off behind his back without losing her balance, and was more than ready for her pants to disappear, along with the rest of his clothes. She dug her heels into his back, thrusting her hips against his.

Fitz growled against her neck, shifting to wrap one arm around her back, freeing the other to grope her breasts, the hand on her back sliding down to grab her backside and pressing her hips tighter against his.

“Leo _please_ ,” Jemma gasped out, her heart hammering in her chest and her blood thundering through her veins. She wasn’t sure she could go any longer without him inside her. Trying to speed him along, she tugged his pants and boxers down enough to grasp his length in her palm.

He let out a low groan, thrusting into her hand. “ _Jemma_.” Quickly, he set her back down on her feet, his hands finding the waist of her capris and tugging them, along with her panties, down. She kicked them away moments before she was back against the lockers, wrapping her legs back around his hips. Without any more warning, he thrust up into her and Jemma let out a cry.

Fitz’s hands were gripping her hips hard enough to leave bruises, his mouth seeking hers out and kissing her deeply to silence her cries. She grabbed at his shoulders, his hair, his arms, trying to find something to hold onto as he set a punishing pace, hitting all the right spots inside her. Not for the first time (and likely not for the last), Jemma was infinitely glad that she’d made the decision to switch to the birth control shots every SHIELD facility kept on hand for its female field agents. They’d nearly forgotten a condom enough times that it became a necessity that Jemma – and definitely Fitz – didn’t mind in the slightest.

She was already so turned on as her mind flashed back to their fight from earlier, the way that he knew her so well, the way that they’d moved together, the way the familiar weight of him above her felt, the way he had forced her to the ground and held her there. It was only moments before she was tightening around him, tearing her mouth from his to cry out his name.

He was quick to follow her, his hips giving a few more erratic thrusts before he buried his face in her neck and shouted her name in return.

They fought to breathe, and Jemma had to close her eyes, her head falling back against the door of the locker behind her. Absently, she ran her fingers through his messy hair, and felt his thumbs stroking over her hipbones.

After a long moment, he turned his head to press a kiss to her neck before carefully setting her on her feet. She whimpered a bit at the loss of him inside her, her weight resting entirely on the lockers behind her, her legs feeling a bit like Jell-O. All the energy she’d had moments before was suddenly gone and she wanted to collapse and just go to sleep.

“Well…” she started, still a little breathless. She glanced up and saw him giving her a sheepish little smile that she couldn’t help but return. “Natasha was so right.”

Fitz chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. “Yeah, she definitely was.” When he pulled back, Jemma noticed a worried look on his face. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No more than you did when we were sparring,” Jemma assured him, lazily sliding her arms over his neck. “C’mon, let’s go take a shower and then take a nap.”

He grinned, reaching up to brush her sweaty hair away from her cheek before pressing a kiss to the spot. “Sounds like a plan, Jem.”

-

Later that night, Jemma ventured out into the kitchen to make them some tea before returning back to bed with Fitz. However, she paused in the doorway when she saw Natasha was already in the kitchen.

Taking a deep breath, she resolved to ignore Natasha’s presence as best she could and set about making the tea. Even though she _knew_ that Natasha knew what she and Fitz had done after practice, it didn’t make it any less embarrassing or awkward, and would rather avoid talking about.

“Haven’t seen you since practice,” Natasha commented, a smirk playing around her lips.

Cursing silently, Jemma gave an airy shrug and hoped that Natasha wouldn’t know she was blushing if she wasn’t facing her. “Oh, Leo and I were taking a nap. Practice takes a lot out of you.”

“So does sex,” Natasha deadpanned. “Especially adrenaline-fueled sex.” She gave a laugh as she most likely noticed the way Jemma’s shoulders were tensing. “Just wait until you get back from missions – then it’s a combination of adrenaline and ‘thank god we’re alive’. _That_ is intense.”

“I – I…I’m sure,” Jemma stuttered out, flushing and almost dropping the mugs in her hands as she hurried through the process of making their tea.

Natasha laughed, patting Jemma’s shoulder reassuringly. “I’m just teasing. You need to work on not squirming so easily, Jemma. Maybe we should have a couple sessions on how to hold up under pressure. I’ve heard talk that you’re a horrible liar.”

Jemma finally turned to face Natasha, her expression indignant. “I’m not…” Then, she released a breath and allowed her shoulders to sag. “Yeah, that might be helpful.”

\---

The next morning, during breakfast, they were all suddenly called to Coulson’s office, where he was standing in front of his desk, his hands resting on the edge of it as he studied some information scrolling over his tablet, a troubled expression on his face.

“What’s with the impromptu meeting, Coulson?” Skye asked, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against the wall. “Did we finally get something on HYDRA?”

“We did,” Coulson answered solemnly without lifting his head.

“Well, what is it?” Trip prompted, raising an eyebrow.

"Natasha," Coulson started, finally straightening up and turning to her, a worried look on his face. "We just got Intel that HYDRA is making a deal with Ivan Petrovich."

The blood seemed to drain from Natasha's face and she seemed to stop breathing. Wordlessly, Clint placed a supportive hand on her shoulder. Concerned, Jemma asked Coulson, "Who is Ivan Petrovich?"

Coulson opened his mouth to answer, but Natasha's low, deadly voice cut in, "He was my handler in the Red Room."

Jemma's mouth fell open in horror. "HYDRA is working with them?! That's…"

"Terrifying," Fitz finished, his eyes wide. "Are they going to start working with Black Widows?"

Natasha shook her head. "I don't know. Petrovich would only make a deal like this if there was something in it for him. But, what does HYDRA have that he doesn't?" From her tone, she clearly already knew the answer.

"Tasha…" Clint whispered, squeezing her shoulder.

"What is it?" Jemma asked, not sure she actually wanted to know the answer.

Natasha's expression didn't change as she explained tonelessly, "HYDRA knows that I’m against them – hell, besides Cap I’m enemy number one after what went down in D.C. If they're working with HYDRA, it'll give Petrovich a chance to get back what he's been missing for years."

" _You_ ," Jemma whispered, horrified as the realization hit.

“Are we going to stop this?” Skye asked, her eyes wide with worry. “I mean, that sounds like an alliance that we can’t let happen.”

“We can’t take on the Red Room and HYDRA. Not on our own,” Coulson stated, raising an eyebrow at Natasha.

Turning to Clint, Natasha told him meaningfully, "I think it's time we made some calls."

“Calls to who?” Skye questioned, her brow furrowing in confusion.

Coulson clearly knew what they meant, because there was a secretive smile on his face as he said simply, “You’ll see.”

Skye groaned, rolling her eyes. “I’m so _done_ with all these secrets!”

“Then you’re probably in the wrong profession,” Natasha told her, raising an eyebrow.

\---

A little under two weeks later, Natasha and Clint were waiting by the main entrance to the Playground, watching as a familiar figure came toward them.

“You’re early,” Natasha called, amusement coloring her tone.

Steve Rogers gave her a smile as he slung his pack over his shoulder. “You’ve said it yourself before; I’m _always_ early.”

Natasha rolled her eyes at that. “So, how goes the search?”

Steve grimaced. “Not very well. Sam is still on it, but I took a break to come here.”

“You didn’t have to –” Natasha started to remind him, but he quickly cut her off.

“This isn’t an inconvenience to me, Natasha. I’ve always got your back," Steve assured her, "We'll take them down."

Natasha gave a fond sigh, rolling her eyes once more and giving Steve a teasing shove. "Oh, quit being so optimistic, Steve. It makes me sick."

Steve gave her an insulted look that simply turned into a smile. "Other than all this, how have _you_ been?"

"Surprisingly good, actually. Clint and I have been training some of Coulson's agents. Taken them under our wing, I suppose." She glanced at her silent partner beside her. “They’re quick learners.”

“But easily distracted,” Clint added in a mutter, shaking his head.

“I’d love to meet them,” Steve said, fixing his grip on his pack and stepping closer to join them. “So, am I cleared?”

“I’ll go find Koenig and ask,” Natasha told him, heading back into the main base in search of the man.

There was a moment of silence between the men. "So," Clint started casually, "I heard you kissed Nat."

Steve's jaw dropped open before he started mouthing wordlessly. Finally, he managed, "S-she kissed me!"

Clint stared blankly at him for a moment before he grinned. "Yeah, I know."

Steve looked somewhere between incredibly uncomfortable and annoyed at Clint’s teasing, but before he could decide on one, Natasha returned with Koenig following quickly behind her. “I tried to tell him I could give you the lanyard, but he insisted,” she explained.

Koenig’s hands were shaking as he passed the lanyard to Steve. “Mr. – _Captain_ – Rogers, it’s such an honor to meet you.”

Steve gave the other man a warm smile. “Thank you, Agent Koenig.”

Natasha and Clint snickered when Koenig nearly swooned.

\---

Fitz and Jemma were in the lab, arguing about some thing or another that Natasha only understood half of when she found them. She leaned against the doorframe and hid a smirk as she called to them, “Hey guys, there's someone I'd like you to meet."

The couple shared a confused look, but left whatever they’d been working on and followed Natasha as she led them down the hall toward the training room.

“Who are we meeting?” Jemma asked curiously.

“Is it one of the people that you and Clint needed to call?” Fitz added.

“You’ll see,” Natasha answered simply. Then, they reached the training room, where a very muscled blonde man was facing away from them, using the punching bag. "This is Steve Rogers."

Jemma sucked in a gasp, her eyes going wide as her hands came up to cover her mouth. Fitz's jaw dropped open.

Natasha was hiding an amused grin at Jemma and Fitz's continually stupefied expressions as she continued with her introductions. "Steve, this is Jemma Simmons and Leo Fitz."

Steve paused in his training, turning to face them as he unwrapped the tape from around his hands. "It's nice to meet you both."

"I…I…it…it's nice to meet you, Captain Rogers," Jemma managed to stutter out.

"Yeah, nice to meet you, Captain Rogers," Fitz agreed quickly, nodding his head vigorously, his eyes wide.

Steve chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. "Natasha told me that she and Clint have been training you both?" They nodded silently in response. "Trust me when I say you're being trained by the best." Curiously, he asked, "How long have you been in the field?"

Jemma and Fitz exchanged a glance before Fitz admitted, "Technically…we've never actually been sanctioned for the field. Never passed our field assessments."

Steve raised his eyebrows, confusion clear in his expression as he glanced at Natasha. She chuckled as she answered, "They're scientists, Steve. Some of – if not _the_ – best that SHIELD has. The field kind of found them, and Clint and I wanted to make sure that they're ready next time."

"Scientists, huh?" Steve nodded appraisingly. "Stark and Banner will be glad for the help."

“They’re coming here too?” Jemma asked, her eyes wide. She clutched at Fitz’s arm for support, suddenly looking a little faint, though Fitz didn’t look much better. “Oh my god.”

Steve gave a little wince. “Please, just don’t let Stark see you acting like _that_ , we’ll never hear the end of it. His ego is…”

“Out of control?” Natasha finished, arching an eyebrow.

“Oh yes, I’ve heard that,” Jemma said, nodding quickly. “Don’t worry, we’ll act perfectly normal. Right, Leo?”

Fitz nodded as well. “Oh yes, definitely. We’re good at that. Acting…normal.” They exchanged a glance, wincing awkwardly, before Fitz said, “Well…er…we should um…get back to the lab.”

“Oh yes! Back to the lab!” Jemma agreed, nodding rapidly. Quickly, they headed for the door, and Natasha just barely heard Jemma asking Fitz, “Do you think it would be improper of me to ask him about Peggy Carter?”

She shook her head, finally allowing her grin to show. “Sorry about them.”

Steve chuckled, shaking his head. “No, it’s fine.” Curiously, he asked, "What's their story?"

Natasha gave a sigh, her smile fading. "They've been partners since SHIELD Academy, and had been in SciOps up until joining Coulson’s team. When SHIELD fell, one of their team members betrayed them and launched them to the bottom of the ocean in a medical pod. He sacrificed himself to save her and was in a coma for over a week. After he woke up, they – and I've heard quite a few _'finally_ 's – got together. I offered to train Jemma first, and then we somehow ended up training Fitz as well and…" Natasha flushed just slightly. "We feel…responsible for them, I guess."

“They seem like good kids,” Steve assured her, picking up his duffel bag and putting his tape back inside. “A little overeager, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.”

“You should see them in training,” Natasha said, rolling her eyes fondly.


	8. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a couple more Avengers arrive, and I couldn't resist a little interlude with a girls' night before getting to the serious stuff. Also, let me just say that the reaction to never having watched Dirty Dancing before is literally the one I have when I hear that someone hasn't seen it, so I should apologize in advance for that ;D

A few days later, Natasha, Clint, and Steve were headed back to the entrance of the Playground after being alerted to the fact that two more arrivals with clearance were entering the base, and she already had a pretty good idea of who it was.

“This is the new SHIELD?” Tony Stark was complaining, looking unimpressed as he glanced around.

“ _Tony_ ,” Pepper Potts groaned, crossing her arms over her chest. “In case you don’t remember, their entire organization just fell.”

“ _Still_.”

“Pepper,” Natasha greeted the other woman in surprise as she, Clint, and Steve reached them. “What are you doing here?”

Pepper sighed, rolling her eyes. “Tony refused to let me leave his side. HYDRA’s targeting us as well, and he’s convinced that they’ll come and attack me while he’s away.”

“With good reason,” Tony put in indignantly, “Those bastards are ruthless, and if they think they can use Pep to get to me they will.” Pepper opened her mouth, likely about to argue back, but he ignored it, cutting her off as he said to Natasha, “So, what exactly are we dealing with that it required the Avengers to come to Coulson’s secret base?”

“The Red Room,” Natasha answered simply, crossing her arms over her chest.

Pepper’s eyebrows darted up her forehead. “The ones that trained you?”

Clint nodded sharply. “HYDRA’s making a deal with them as we speak.”

“A deal for Natasha,” Steve added, his tone hard.

“Well, that just won’t do,” Tony said, shaking his head. “What are the Avengers without their one girl member?”

Natasha gave him a lethal look. “Hopeless,” she snapped.

Tony held up his hands to ward off any attack Natasha might be thinking of mounting as Pepper pinched the bridge of her nose. Clearing his throat, Steve asked, “Where’s Banner? I thought he was coming with you.”

“Oh, he’ll be here later,” Tony answered dismissively, waving away Steve’s concerns. “He wanted to blow off some steam before being stuck underground.”

“Thor should be arriving any time now,” Steve added, “Then, once Banner gets here, we can begin the briefing.”

Just then, there was the sound of heavy footsteps coming down the steps. “Lady Natasha! I have arrived to help defend you from whatever threat there is against you!”

Natasha pressed her lips together, hiding a grin at the declaration. “Thanks, Thor.”

Behind Thor were Jane Foster and her assistant Darcy Lewis, who had been frequent guests to the tower while Thor was there. “Is everything alright?” Jane asked worriedly, brushing past Thor to join the others.

“Yes,” Natasha assured her. “We’re having a briefing later, after Bruce gets here. For now, we should probably get everyone settled in. Oh, and you’ll need lanyards.”

As if on cue, Koenig appeared, slightly breathless as though he’d been running. “I’ve got lanyards for you!” His hands shaking with excitement, he gave Tony and Thor their lanyards, but he came up short at the sight of Pepper, Jane, and Darcy. “I wasn’t aware there would be others coming with you.”

“This is my girlfriend, Pepper Potts,” Tony explained, nodding at Pepper, “I can vouch for her, the only evil thing about her is her definition of ‘a good time’.” Ignoring Pepper’s heated glare, he went on, “That’s Thor’s girlfriend, Dr. Jane Foster, really, she’s harmless, and Jane’s assistant Darcy Lewis, who is kind of evil when she eats all of your waffles, but that’s about it.”

Koenig was nodding rapidly. “Of course, Mr. Stark! I’ll get their lanyards right away!” He disappeared back down the hall at a hurried pace.

“Skye will be so upset,” Natasha commented to Clint, amusement clear in her tone. “More lanyards given out without having to pass the mysterious test.”

-

After everyone had gotten settled in, Thor and Steve had disappeared to the training room, Tony had gone to ‘judge the base’s lab’, and the women had congregated in the kitchen after Darcy demanded food.

“Well, at least with all of us here, we can resume girls’ movie night,” Jane offered positively as she took a seat at the table beside Darcy. “I brought cheesy romance movies.”

“I’ll invite Jemma and Skye,” Natasha said, pulling herself up onto the counter easily and crossing one leg over the other. “May would probably turn it down, though.”

“Jemma is your new…what, do you consider her a protégée?” Pepper asked curiously, leaning against the opposite counter.

Natasha nodded in response. “I guess you could call it that. She and her boyfriend had very little instruction in fighting and self-defense before Clint and I started training them. If they kept going into the field like that, they were going to get hurt, or worse.”

“I look forward to meeting her,” Jane admitted, “I’ve heard a lot about her and her partner, Fitz, isn’t it?”

“Partner and boyfriend,” Natasha corrected. “Around here, they’re known as Fitzsimmons.”

Darcy’s mouth popped open in surprise before she grinned widely. “Oh wow, that’s cute. They actually _like_ being called a couple name?”

“It’s not a couple name.”

All heads turned to find Jemma herself coming into the kitchen, a smile playing around her lips.

“Somehow,” she continued, “we just started getting called Fitzsimmons because everyone was tired of having to say ‘Fitz _and_ Simmons’ all the time, so they took out the ‘and’ and it caught on. It’s really only a coincidence that we ended up together and it could be referred to as a ‘couple name’.”

Darcy was struck silent for only a brief moment. “Still cute.”

Jemma smiled widely in response even as a flush spread across her cheeks. “I guess it is.”

Natasha tapped Jemma’s leg with her foot. “Hey, Jemma, do you think you and Skye would want to join us for a girls’ movie night? We used to do them all the time back at the tower.”

Jemma’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, but then she nodded. “Oh, of course. I know Skye will be thrilled. She says that we rarely ever do anything without the guys around.”

“Speaking of, where is the other half of Fitzsimmons?”

Jemma rolled her eyes as she leant up against the counter next to Natasha. “Tony Stark has commandeered my boyfriend and now I don’t think he would leave the lab for anything.”

“If he’s a guy, then I’m sure there’s _something_ you could do to get him to leave the lab,” Darcy commented, popping a pretzel into her mouth. Jemma blushed, but didn’t respond.

“I’m sorry about Tony,” Pepper sighed, shaking her head before offering Jemma a smile and her hand. “Pepper Potts.”

Jemma nodded a bit too enthusiastically as she shook Pepper’s hand. “Of course, I knew that. I’m Jemma Simmons. And don’t be sorry, Leo is just as much to blame. Mr. Stark didn’t even have to ask.”

Chuckling, Jane held out her hand next. “I’m sure Tony was excited to meet a fan. I’m Jane Foster. This is my assistant Darcy Lewis.”

“Hey,” Darcy added unenthusiastically.

Jemma’s enthusiastic nodding was back. “Oh yes, I knew that as well! The work you’ve done with astrophysics is amazing. Of course, that isn’t my field, but I can still appreciate the sheer amount of groundbreaking work you’ve done.”

Suspiciously, Jane’s eyes narrowed a bit. “Were you there when SHIELD came in and stole all of my research?”

Jemma’s eyes grew wide at the accusation. “No! Of course not!” Then, she bit her lip before she admitted, “Though…they may have sent some of it to our lab.”

“You stole my iPod!” Darcy cried angrily.

“ _Darcy_ ,” Jane sighed, rolling her eyes. “I bought you a new one.”

“ _Still_ ,” Darcy muttered unhappily.

“I believe,” Natasha cut in, raising an eyebrow, “that if you should be blaming anyone, it’s Coulson. Wasn’t he the one that spearheaded said stealing of your research?”

“Yes,” Jane admitted, “But he apologized. Kind of. And he gave most of it back.” Then, she added quietly, “Plus, I don’t want to yell at a guy that _died_. Thor told me about it. He was there.”

“He was?” Jemma asked in surprise. She, like everyone else on the team, obviously knew about Coulson’s death and subsequent resurrection. However, she was still fuzzy on the details of how exactly Coulson had died in the first place.

Jane nodded solemnly. “It was Loki. He’d trapped Thor and was about to launch him out of the Helicarrier before Coulson came in and tried to take Loki out, but then Loki stabbed him through the heart with his scepter.”

“Clint and I saw his body,” Natasha admitted, her jaw clenching visibly. “After the battle. That’s why it was so hard for us to believe that he _was_ actually alive.”

Jemma’s hands were covering her mouth, clear horror on her face. “Oh my god, that’s terrible! Poor Coulson!”

Natasha gave her a reassuring smile. “Coulson’s tough, Jemma. He clearly hasn’t let it faze him too much.”

Jemma almost said something about Coulson’s obsession with the TAHITI project and finding out that he’d actually died and been resurrected and everything else that had to have been going on away from the team, but she didn’t. If Coulson wanted Natasha and the others to know, he would’ve told them.

“I was so relieved when Tony told me that Phil was alive,” Pepper commented, “I couldn’t believe it when I heard he’d died during New York, especially when I’d just seen him a few days before.”

“I couldn’t believe a lot of things that happened during New York,” Natasha added darkly. Out of all of them in the room, she was the only one that had actually been there, in the thick of it. Jemma honestly forgot that sometimes.

“At least it’s behind us now,” Jane said optimistically. “And, we have a movie night to look forward to!”

Natasha’s almost…haunted expression faded as she gave Jane a small smile. “Yes, we do.” Turning to Jemma, she said, “Why don’t you go find Skye and tell her about it? Meet us in the lounge in a half hour?”

“Alright,” Jemma agreed with a nod, giving the women a smile before she left the kitchen in search of Skye.

After only a bit of searching, she found Skye just coming out of the shooting range, where she’d been learning how to perfect her aim with May. “Skye,” she called, catching the other girl’s attention.

“Hey, Jemma,” Skye greeted, tugging the elastic out of her hair holding it back into a ponytail and shaking her hair out. “What’s up?”

“Natasha invited us to a movie night,” Jemma started, watching Skye’s eyes light up at just that, before she added, “With Pepper Potts, Dr. Foster, and her assistant, Darcy.”

Skye’s eyes widened. “Okay, wait, I know who Pepper Potts is and _oh my god_ but who is Dr. Foster?”

Jemma stared at her in disbelief for a moment before she told Skye firmly, “Dr. Foster is one of the most groundbreaking astrophysicists alive today!” When Skye looked at her blankly, Jemma sighed and added, “And she’s Thor’s girlfriend.”

At that, Skye’s eyes were wide once more. “Whoa…we’re having a movie night with an Avenger and two women _sleeping_ with Avengers?” she asked, her eyes wide. “This is _awesome_.”

“Goodness, Skye, you could be a _little_ more tactful about it. They’re Thor and Tony Stark’s _girlfriends_ , not just women they’re sleeping with,” Jemma corrected.

Skye waved away Jemma’s words. “Po-tay-to, po- _tah_ -to.” She raised an eyebrow slyly as she asked, “I mean, you _are_ Fitz’s girlfriend _and_ the woman he’s sleeping with, right?”

Jemma’s mouth fell open as she gradually began to turn red. “I – I…well…that’s…I mean…that’s _irrelevant_ , Skye,” she finally said, hoping her firm tone covered for her embarrassing stuttering.

Skye’s expression clearly said that there was no hope of that.

-

“Hey,” Jemma greeted softly, coming up behind Fitz when he and Stark had a break in whatever they were discussing.

Fitz turned in surprise, but smiled softly when he saw her. “Hey, Jem. What’s up?”

Jemma slid her arms loosely around his waist, pulling him in closer. “I just wanted to let you know that Skye and I were invited by Natasha, Pepper Potts, and Dr. Foster to join them for a movie night. So, if you ever leave the lab, I’ll be a bit late to bed.”

Fitz nodded, his hands finding her hips, his thumbs hooking through the belt loops of her jeans. “Oh, that was nice of them.” He flushed a bit, glancing down embarrassedly. “Sorry…about spending all day in the lab…”

Jemma shook her head, rolling up onto the tips of her toes to press her lips against his in a quick kiss. “I get it, don’t worry.” She gave him another quick kiss before she pulled away a bit. “I brought you tea.” She nodded at where she’d left the cup on the workbench. “See you later?”

He nodded, leaning down to press a kiss to first her forehead, then her lips. “Thanks. I love you, Jemma.”

“I love you, too, Leo.” She kissed him one last time before detaching herself from him and turning to leave the lab.

“Have fun!” he called to her back. She blew him a kiss over her shoulder before disappearing around the corner.

“Your girlfriend?”

Fitz turned, finding Tony raising a curious eyebrow. “Uh, yeah. Her name’s Jemma.”

Tony nodded thoughtfully before he glanced at Fitz’s tea and scoffed. “I wish Pepper would bring _me_ things when I’d been in the lab all day. All I get is yelled at.”

Fitz picked up his cup, taking a sip and smiling at the way she always made it just like he liked it. “Jemma gets it. There are times when she wants to stay in the lab all day too.”

Tony’s eyebrow was back up his forehead. “She’s an engineer too?”

Fitz shook his head. “Naw. She’s biochem. We went to SHIELD Academy together and got paired up as lab partners and it just…never ended.”

Tony nodded thoughtfully. “Bruce will be excited to talk to her.” Curiously, he asked, “She’s pretty good in her field?”

“The best,” Fitz assured him. “She’s smarter than me. Had two PhDs before she even got to the Academy.”

Tony whistled appreciatively. “And she was how old?”

“We were both seventeen,” Fitz answered, taking another sip of his tea. “That’s why we eventually got paired up, I think. We were the youngest ones there, and I think our professors wanted us to have someone to talk to, someone like us. They hear seventeen and from the UK and think we’re the same person.” He frowned a bit, thinking that over. “They weren’t really wrong, though. Jemma and I _are_ practically the same person sometimes.”

Tony stared at him for a moment before he stated, “You _do_ know how whipped you are, right?”

Fitz couldn’t help his grin. “Of course I do. Happy to be.”

“It’s guys like you that make guys like us have to work harder,” Tony commented with a dramatic sigh.

-

“So, I’ve got _The Wedding Singer,_ _Dirty Dancing_ –” Jane was pulling out the DVDs as she listed them, and Skye immediately snatched that DVD from her hands.  
“ _Dirty Dancing_!” she cried, holding the case up victoriously. “This is not a discussion, we are watching _Dirty Dancing_.”

Darcy laughed, taking the DVD from her and heading for the entertainment center. “I think we’re gonna get along.”

“Well, come on, what’s better than Patrick Swayze and all that 80’s cheesy romance?” Skye defended. “Not to mention quotes like ‘nobody puts Baby in a corner’!”

“Not much else,” Darcy answered with a grin, popping the DVD into the player and grabbing the remote before flopping back down next to Jane.

“They always made relationships seem so easy,” Pepper commented with a sigh, “There’s the secret attraction, something that tears them apart, then the scene where they admit their love to some iconic 80’s song. There is no relationship like that in real life. It’s always _so_ much more complicated.”

“Especially when your significant other is a billionaire with a metal suit,” Jane said with a laugh.

“Or a demi-god,” Pepper shot back, raising an eyebrow. Jane made a face, nodding in agreement.

Jemma nervously wrung her hands in her lap, trying to blend in with the couch and praying that – “Hey, that _kind of_ sounds like your relationship with Fitz, Jemma,” Skye piped up suddenly. “You know, minus the song. Unless there was a song playing in Fitz’s hospital room.”

 _So much for that_. Jemma sank a bit in her seat when all eyes suddenly turned on her. “There was no song,” she muttered.

“ _But_ , there was the secret attraction – from Fitz – then the ocean and subsequent coma that nearly tore you apart, then you admitted your love after he woke up,” Skye continued, either not realizing or ignoring Jemma’s glare. Jemma was leaning towards the latter.

“You really had an 80’s romance movie beginning?” Darcy asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Not…not _really_ ,” Jemma attempted to disagree.

“Hey, if you did, then that just makes you guys even cuter,” Darcy said firmly. “Like, I’m pretty sure I’m already shipping you.”

“I know, right?!” Skye cried happily. “They’re _so_ shippable, and I’d been waiting like a _year_ for them to get together and never thought it would happen!”

“So,” Jemma cut in, desperate to take the attention off of her relationship, “What is _Dirty Dancing_ about?”

Suddenly, Jemma got her wish and Skye and Darcy went quiet, staring at her with wide eyes. Even Pepper and Jane looked surprised. Quickly, Jemma looked to Natasha for help, but she held up her hands. “Don’t look at me, even _I’ve_ seen it. Of course, it was them who made me watch it, but still…” She trailed off, giving Jemma an apologetic look. “Sorry.”

“Oh come on, it can’t be that big of a deal,” Jemma insisted. At their continued blank stares, she added uncertainly, “Can it?”

“You foreigners,” Skye sighed, her teasing tone taking the bite out of the words. “Never know what you’re missing.”

-

Once they’d finished the movie – which Jemma had to admit had been quite good and definitely full of cheesy romance – Skye said bluntly, leaning forward in her seat, “Okay, so I need girlfriends-of-Avengers slash Avengers gossip.”

“ _Skye_!” Jemma cried, looking appalled. “You can’t just _say_ that!”

“Of course she can, I say it all the time,” Darcy assured Jemma, nodding sagely. “And really, once they all get together, it’s actually harder to get them to _stop_ talking about their boyfriends.”

“More like complaining,” Pepper corrected, rolling her eyes. “The other day for example. Tony thought that it would be the best idea to start something in the elevator.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” Jane commented, her brow furrowing in confusion.

Pepper gave a groan as she reached up to pinch the bridge of her nose. “We were going to a press conference on the twentieth floor.”

“ _Oh_.” Jane winced.

“Did they get anything good?” Natasha asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes.” Pepper shook her head. “It took _hours_ of damage control. And when I asked him if he was proud of himself, he said that he was always proud of himself.”

“That’s nothing,” Darcy said, leaning her arms on the coffee table, resting her chin on top of them. “Some paparazzi found Thor and Jane have a little _moment_ and he literally went after them!”

“You weren’t even there!” Jane was blushing furiously as she glared at her assistant.

“It must be so nice to have a relationship not in the spotlight,” Pepper sighed, glancing at Natasha.

Natasha held up her hands. “Oh, we’re in the spotlight, don’t worry. Every time we’re out in public together, we have to make sure to keep it platonic because there’s _always_ someone watching.” Suddenly, she turned to Jemma and commented, “The only one of us here that would know what it’s like is Jemma.”

Jemma’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Oh…well…that’s not completely true. Everyone on the base is just as bad as the press. If not _worse_.” She threw a look at Skye, who was feigning innocence.

“But, you can go out in public together and hold hands and just be…a couple,” Jane explained, her expression wistful.

“We haven’t actually…been out in public. Since we got together, I mean,” Jemma admitted. “We’re not allowed to leave the base unless it’s important.”

Darcy gaped at her in shock. “You haven’t even gone on a _date_?!”

“Well…I mean, I suppose not in the _typical_ sense. But, why would we ever need to go on dates like a normal couple?” Jemma gave a little shrug. “We’ve known each other since we were seventeen – there’s no need to go on dates to get to know each other. I know Leo as well as I know myself.”

“That is true,” Pepper agreed, “When Tony and I started dating, it was weird for us to go on dates, given that I’d been his PA for over a decade. I know him _better_ than he knows himself.”

“Clint and I have never gone on dates,” Natasha admitted unashamedly. “I think we’d both rather be tortured than sit in some cutesy restaurant and try to make small talk.”

Jane laughed, shaking her head. “So, I think we’ve just reestablished that _none_ of us are in normal relationships whatsoever.”

“Well, dating superheroes and all,” Skye said, gesturing to the three older women.

“You know what the worst thing about dating a superhero is?” Pepper groused, “That whenever you’re mad at them, they just assume that you still want to let them touch you, and it’s so _irritating_.”

“Oh, that’s _all_ men,” Natasha assured her. “Not just superheroes.”

“I hate that!” Skye chimed in, “Like, they think just because they’re all hunky and chiseled that you still want to make out with them like sorry, you’re evil.” When she got a few blank stares, she explained, “He was HYDRA.”

Pepper and Jane made sympathetic noises as Darcy reached over and patted her hand. “There’s always another chiseled hunk around the corner that _isn’t_ evil.”

“Or not so chiseled,” Skye said teasingly, giving Jemma a playful nudge.

Jemma rolled her eyes at Skye. “Oh _honestly_ , Skye.”

“What? There’s nothing wrong with Fitz being all nerdy and…y’know, _not_ chiseled. That’s obviously what you’re attracted to, and it’s fine,” Skye assured her.

“For your information,” Jemma began, her tone clinical, “Leo hasn’t been horridly skinny since we were teenagers, and he actually has quite a nice physique. One that has only gotten nicer since we’ve been training with Clint and Natasha.”

Skye looked apologetic for a moment before a sly grin crossed her face. “Wait…Fitz has _abs_? Is that what you’re saying? Okay, this is something I need to see.” She made a move, as though she was going to get up and go find Fitz and make him take his shirt off.

Quickly, Jemma grabbed her arm and forced her back down. “You will do no such thing.”

Natasha grinned at that. “You’re sounding a little _green_ there, Jemma.”

“And you’re telling me that you don’t dislike the fact that girls swoon everyday over the thought of your boyfriends’ chests?” Jemma asked with an eyebrow arched, her gaze trailing over Natasha, Jane, and Pepper.

There was a beat before Pepper rolled her eyes, “Honestly, I don’t care as long as Tony remembers what I’ll do to him if he ever thinks about pursuing said girl.”

Jane grimaced as she admitted, “Half the time…I kind of don’t notice. Usually Darcy is the one going after the girls and reminding them that Thor is spoken for.”

“I am,” Darcy confirmed, nodding solemnly.

“Clint doesn’t even really notice,” Natasha said smugly. “He told me that it didn’t matter how many other girls look because he’s already found the best.”

“See, why do we never get to see romantic Clint?” Darcy complained, “All he ever does when we’re around is sit silently and look like he’s plotting our deaths.”

“He’s not a people person,” Natasha answered simply, shrugging.

-

Later that night, Jemma entered the room quietly, not turning the light on just in case Fitz was already sleeping. She stripped down to her panties, blindly finding the t-shirt of his that she always wore and pulling it on before slipping into bed beside him.

“How was movie night?” he asked sleepily, wrapping his arm securely around her and curling his body around hers.

“Good,” Jemma answered softly, finding his hand with hers and sliding her fingers between his. “Lots of cheesy romance and girl talk. How was working with Tony Stark?”

“Good,” Fitz mumbled, burying his face in her hair and already half-asleep once more. “He thinks I’m whipped.”

Jemma laughed, pulling Fitz’s arm more tightly around her. “He does, now? And what did you tell him?”

“That I’m happy to be.” He was fading fast, so he pressed a kiss to the top of her head before mumbling, “’Night, Jem. Love you.”

Her heart was feeling very warm and full at Fitz’s casual response of being happy to be whipped, and it only grew fuller as he told her he loved her, just like it did every time he said it. “Goodnight, Leo. I love you too.” She squeezed his fingers between hers, and in moments he was out like a light.


	9. Chapter Eight

Bright and early the next morning, everyone had gathered in Coulson’s office for a briefing. Bruce Banner had arrived sometime during the night, and was standing off to the side of the room, trying to shush Tony, who was rambling on and on about some science-related thing or another.

Natasha, from her spot by the far wall beside Clint, saw Jemma and Fitz enter, and clearly noticed them whispering excitedly to each other at the sight of Bruce. She made a mental note to introduce them later.

When everyone had filed into the room and made do with how cramped it was with all of them in there, Coulson began the briefing.

“We’ve been keeping a careful eye on HYDRA’s movements and whatever communications we can find,” he started. “Last week, we got Intel on an alliance they were in the beginning of forming. At this point, all we know is that HYDRA has struck a tentative truce with the Red Room, which we assume has the conditional return of Black Widow over to her former handler, Ivan Petrovich,” he paused, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t think I need to tell you that this isn’t an option. We need to take out the Red Room and we need to do it before they can hand over whatever HYDRA is getting out of the deal.”

“Do we know where the Red Room is based?” Skye asked from her perch on the edge of Coulson’s desk.

All gazes in the room seemed to turn to Natasha. She gave a long sigh, reaching up to press two fingers to her temple. “I never knew where the base was. When I left for and completed a mission, I was drugged by my handler. All I know is that it’s in Russia.” She shook her head, clearly frustrated. “I wish I had more to give you.”

“It’s more than enough, Natasha,” Steve assured her, placing a hand briefly on her arm. “We can send a small team to scout out the area. If we find HYDRA agents in the area, they should lead us right to the Red Room.”

“And if there aren’t any HYDRA agents in the area?” May asked realistically.

“We’ll try a different approach,” Steve stated firmly. “Our top priority is finding the Red Room and taking them out _before_ they can finalize this deal with HYDRA.”

“I hate waiting,” Tony complained, giving a dramatic sigh.

“That’s our only option at the current time, Stark,” Steve reminded him, his tone resolute.

As much as Natasha hated to agree with Tony, she knew that this wasn’t the best of plans, and they needed to come up with something _fast_. HYDRA and Petrovich weren’t the kind to sit by idly and wait for someone to ruin their plans. They couldn’t allow this alliance to happen.

It wasn’t long after that the briefing ended, and Natasha was stalking out of the room before anyone could stop her and ask more information about the Red Room. However, she heard a couple sets of footsteps following her, and had a pretty good idea of who they belonged to.

“Are you alright, Natasha?” Jemma asked in concern, proving Natasha right.

Natasha sighed, pausing and turning to face Jemma, catching sight of Fitz not far behind her. She closed her eyes and raised her hand to cover them, fighting the urge to release another long sigh. “I’m fine, Jemma. All this talk of the Red Room…it’s just bringing up a lot of things I would much rather forget.”

Jemma reached out, catching Natasha’s free hand and squeezing it supportively. “Don’t worry, Natasha, soon this will all be over, and you’ll never have to worry about the Red Room again.”

Natasha lowered her hand, catching Jemma’s hopeful expression and feeling her heart sink. Jemma had absolutely no idea how deadly this mission was going to be. There was no way they would make it out of there without someone getting hurt – or worse. Natasha was only slightly surprised by the crippling fear that tore through her as she realized there was a high possibility it would be one of the people standing in front of her.

“We should do some training,” she said, pulling her hand from Jemma’s and turning to continue heading down the hallway. “Training room in ten.”

She couldn’t let that happen.

\---

That afternoon, Natasha had gone to Coulson and asked for him to call for another meeting. There was a plan that had started to form in Natasha’s mind since that conversation with Jemma earlier, and she knew that it wasn’t going to be very popular, but it was the only plan that might have a chance of actually working.

“Maybe a full-frontal assault isn’t the best option,” Natasha started, standing near the front of the once more filled office. Feeling all eyes on her, she plowed forward with it, regardless on the consequences, “They want _me_ , right? HYDRA can’t kill me; they need me too much. If I allow myself to get captured –”

“No,” Clint said immediately, his tone firm and final. This was quickly followed by a symphony of ‘no’s from Jemma, Skye, Fitz, and an ‘absolutely not!’ from Steve.

“Hear me out,” Natasha snapped, annoyed by their immediate denials. “If I allow myself to get captured, they’ll turn me over to the Red Room, and then we’ll have someone on the inside. Plus, I can act as a tracer, leading the assault team right to them.”

“Natasha, _no_ ,” Clint snapped back, shaking his head. “There is no telling what they’ll do to you before we get there. You don’t know if Petrovich is going to kill you the second you’re inside. It’s too damn risky.”

Natasha rounded on Clint, glaring up at him through narrowed eyes. “Don’t act like it’s the not the only plan that has an actual chance of working, Clint. You’re being an idiot! You know I can hold my own, so don’t _insult me_ by implying that I can’t.”

“I’m not implying anything, Natasha,” he ground out, his hands curled into fists at his sides. “I know you can damn well hold your own. But everything you know, they _taught you_. You were _never_ able to overpower them, what the hell makes you think this will be any different?”

“I don’t have to fight my way out on my own, Barton, all I have to do is survive until the team gets there. I survived there for fifteen years, I think I can handle a few days.”

“Survived?” Clint’s expression was shocked. “You call what they did to you _surviving_?!”

“I’m alive, aren’t I?”

Before Clint could shoot back a retort, Coulson cut in, firmly stating, “ _Enough_. Natasha, we have to consider that a last resort. We’re not going to send you in there by yourself. That’s too much of a risk.”

Natasha opened her mouth, intent on reminding Coulson that they didn’t have the luxury of time to figure out a better plan, when Jemma spoke up. “If you were to be captured with other female agents, do you think that Petrovich would take them as well, to turn them into assets?”

For a long moment, Natasha kept her gaze on Jemma, knowing _exactly_ what the younger woman was thinking. Then, Natasha sighed and admitted, “I’m not sure. Maybe? Petrovich was always somewhat of a…collector. He might not be able to pass up the idea of adding SHIELD agents to his collection.” Jemma’s mouth popped back open, but Natasha abruptly turned away and looked to another woman. “May?”

May’s face was as impassive as always, but she barely took a moment before inclining her head in agreement. “If there’s a chance, then it would be better to have both of us in there. If Petrovich doesn’t take the bait, I can take whatever agents are holding us, no problem.”

“Natasha,” Jemma started, her voice almost something close to pleading.

“ _No_ ,” Natasha said firmly, turning back to Jemma with hard eyes. “You’re not trained enough. You haven’t even really been out in the field, Jemma. Could you take it if they brought you into a room and tortured you? Beat you into submission? Could you fight back if they pit you against one of their Widows?”

Jemma opened and closed her mouth a few times, and Natasha knew that Jemma wanted to help. She wanted to be beside Natasha when they took down Petrovich and all of the Red Room. She wanted to see what was really happening inside, to allow it to drive her. She wanted to be a _real_ fighter. But, Natasha couldn’t let that happen. There were far too many things that could happen to Jemma in those walls, and if they did, she might leave with her life, but there would forever be a part of her that could never be returned.

Natasha wouldn’t let Jemma lose what was left of her light. She _couldn’t_. Not when she’d seen it happen every day for years to girls just like Jemma. Not when she’d seen what it did to her.

Turning her gaze on Fitz, who looked absolutely dumbstruck by Jemma’s insistence to join the mission, Natasha gave him a look, nodding her head slightly in Jemma’s direction.

He continued to gape at his girlfriend for a moment before he shook himself out of it and asked Coulson meaningfully, “Can Jemma and I have a moment to talk?”

Coulson nodded, gesturing toward the door to allow them to leave. Fitz gave him a grateful look before he gently grabbed Jemma’s arm and led her out of the room.

-

It wasn’t until they’d reached her room – the closest one – that he said something.

“What are you thinking?” Fitz demanded, dropping her arm and throwing his hands up in exasperation, and to try and do something with them so they’d stop shaking so damn hard.

“I’m thinking that Natasha needs help!” Jemma snapped, her eyes narrowed, but Fitz knew that she was just holding back the flood of tears that probably were desperate to escape. “I can do this, Leo! I _have_ to do this! I have to help all those poor girls!”

“ _Poor girls_ who are brainwashed killers that won’t have a qualm about killing you, Jem!” Fitz reminded her sharply. “And that isn’t even the worst part! You _heard_ what Natasha said they did! They beat, torture, and _rape_ them, Jemma!” His bottom lip trembled, despite his best efforts against it. “Don’t you remember what I said? I couldn’t handle it if that ever happened to you.”

Jemma shook her head, her hands curling into fists at her sides. “So _what_? We’re just supposed to let that happen to Natasha and May, and pretend that it isn’t?!”

“Natasha and May can take care of themselves!” Immediately, Fitz knew he’d said the wrong thing.

Jemma’s face became completely expressionless, and Fitz recognized it as something that Natasha did – not Jemma, not his Jemma. “You think I can’t take care of myself? Is that it, Fitz?”

He shook his head, desperate to make her understand. He was terrified that if this went the wrong way, if his words didn’t come out right, he could lose her forever – whether it was because she somehow found a way onto that mission or she decided to leave his life after finally realizing she deserved so much more than him – which wasn’t an option. “Jemma, that’s not what I’m saying at all. I…I just love you. I love you more than anything, and I love you so much sometimes it scares me because if I lost you…I have no _fucking clue_ what I would do with myself, because you’re it, you’re everything, and…and without you, there isn’t _life_ , there isn’t a single damn thing. I _can’t_ lose you, Jemma. I can’t. Please, please, I am _begging_ you, please don’t leave me.”

Fitz was breathing hard by the end of his speech, his desperation and the depth of his emotions sucking all the air from his lungs. All he could do was watch as Jemma stared at him, her eyes wide, a few tears that must’ve broken free rolling down her face, and Fitz was taken back to that damn medical pod when he was so sure it would be the last time he ever saw her beautiful face. He didn’t ever want to feel like that again.

“Leo,” she whispered, the single word coming out choked. She launched herself at him, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck. His arms came around her waist, holding onto her for dear life. He wasn’t sure who started it, but they were rocking back and forth, holding each other and crying into the other’s shoulder and his fingers were bunched in her shirt and he never ever wanted to let go.

“Jemma,” he gasped out against her neck, “Oh Jemma. Don’t leave. _Please_ don’t leave.” She was shaking her head rapidly, and he wasn’t sure if she was saying that she wouldn’t leave or that she couldn’t agree to stay. “I need you more than anything, Jemma.”

“Leo,” she sobbed, her grip on him somehow growing tighter. He felt her face burying against his neck, felt her tears against his skin. “Leo.”

“You’re everything, Jemma.” The words kept tumbling out along with the tears. He was convinced that the more he told her how much she meant to him, she couldn’t leave. She _couldn’t_. “You’re my entire world.”

Then, she was pressing breathless kisses all over his neck and face, spreading her tears over his skin and mixing with his own tears, and Fitz was having more flashbacks from the bottom of the ocean. “I love you,” she breathed against his forehead. “Oh _god_ , I love you.” Her lips found his, and she kissed him with the same desperation he felt coursing through his veins.

It didn’t last, both having become too breathless from crying, but after parting they rested their foreheads together and one of Jemma’s hands came up to cup his face, her thumb trying in vain to swipe away the tears.

“I won’t go,” Jemma promised, and Fitz let out a sob of relief, feeling his knees go weak with it. They sank to the floor, still tight together. “But I have to be on the rescue team. I _have_ to, Leo. Please understand.”

It wasn’t everything he’d hoped for. He’d wanted to keep her away from the Red Room and HYDRA completely, but he knew she would never allow that. So, he nodded. “Alright. Alright. But, I’m coming too.”

“I can –”

“Protect yourself, I know.” He pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose reassuringly. “But I can’t sit idly by when Natasha and May are going to be in danger. Not when I could help.”

Jemma nodded, sniffling as she took his face in her hands and pulled him in for a fierce kiss. “Thank you.”

Fitz shook his head, wrapping his arms tighter around her, forcing her onto his lap and as close as possible into his embrace. “Thank _you_. For understanding. Jemma…”

She cut him off, pressing another kiss to his lips. “I feel the same way,” she murmured against them. For a long moment, they kissed, breathing each other in and holding each other tight. Then, Jemma pulled back a bit to meet his eyes, and she whispered firmly, “I promise you that I won’t ever leave you, Leo.”

Even as he was nodding, holding tightly to his belief in her promise, Fitz felt that it might already be out of Jemma’s control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So obviously the last scene is meant to mirror the med pod scene, and is also a bit indicative of Jemma's disregard for her own life when it comes to saving others, but Fitz is clearly having none of that. Trust me, that will be important later on in the story. Also, it's clearly an issue of co-dependency that will be tackled at some point, but not until the sequel.


	10. Chapter Nine

After a week of planning everything out the best they could with what they knew, their plan was about to go into action, and Natasha and May were about to head to one of the quinjets, which they would take to an area where there was known HYDRA activity. Jemma and Fitz had spent nearly the entire week creating a tracker alongside Tony and Bruce that would be untraceable by HYDRA and the Red Room, and would double as a monitor for Natasha and May’s biorhythms as well.

As the two women were leaving the lab after getting their trackers in place, Natasha told May to go ahead. “I’ll be there in ten.”

May glanced at Jemma fussing over the mess that had been made on the lab table, before nodding to Natasha and wordlessly leaving them.

“Where did Fitz go?” Natasha asked, coming up beside Jemma.

“Oh, he had to return some materials to the supply closet. He’ll be back soon,” Jemma answered, glancing up at Natasha and giving her a weak smile. “Good luck, Natasha.”

Natasha gave a small nod in response before she got down to what she really wanted to say. "Jemma, I know you know that these girls won't be working of their own free will, but you _cannot_ hesitate because _they_ won't. Do you understand me? One little split second decision could cost you your life. So be careful, and be mindful of that fact. Alright?"

Jemma nodded quickly, her eyes looking distinctly wet. “Natasha…”

Natasha gave her a small smile, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder. “I’m going to be okay, Jemma. I’m doing this because I know that it needs to be done. Petrovich should’ve been stopped a long time ago, and it’s that thought that will get me through this. We’re going to stop that sick son of a bitch.”

Jemma was giving quick, jerky little nods, then, without warning, she threw her arms around Natasha and hugged her tightly. Natasha was a bit surprised by the hug, but tentatively returned it, not used to hugging anyone but Clint. As she felt a few of Jemma’s tears hit her shoulder though, she automatically tightened her arms around the younger woman.

She felt incredibly protective of Jemma, and it had only grown over the time that she’d known her. The feeling could almost be described as…maternal, but Natasha refused to call it that because she was no mother. Instead, she thought that maybe she considered Jemma a little sister – at least, this is what she thought it felt like to have a younger sister. She’d attempted to teach Jemma everything – everything _good_ , at least – that she knew, she felt protective of her, and was horrified by the thought of something happening to her. But, she couldn’t let Jemma know that. It would only cause Jemma to become more worried.

Instead, she gently disengaged from her and placed her hands on Jemma’s shoulders, holding the younger woman away at arm’s length. “I’ll see you in a few days, Jemma. Don’t do anything stupid, or else I will _never_ hear the end of it from Fitz, alright?”

Jemma gave a little laugh, swiping away the few tears that had fallen, nodding. “Alright. You don’t do anything stupid either, though, okay? We still have a lot of training ahead of us.”

Natasha smiled softly, squeezing Jemma’s shoulders before removing her hands and taking a step back. “Deal.” She heard footsteps entering the lab and gave Jemma another reassuring smile before turning and passing by Fitz. She paused before telling him softly, “Take care of her, and take care of yourself.”

Fitz gave her a solemn nod, and she returned it before leaving the lab and heading down the hall toward the hangar. She didn’t even falter in her walk when she saw Clint leaning against the entrance to the hangar.

“Thought you weren’t coming,” she commented, keeping her eyes on the quinjet.

He stalled her by grabbing her upper arm and pulling her back toward him. “Tasha.”

Sighing, she turned to look at him over her shoulder. “I have to go, Clint. We can fight about it when I get back.”

“I don’t want to fight, Nat,” Clint said tiredly. “I just…wanted to tell you to be careful.”

Natasha finally turned to face him completely, her face softening. “Clint…”

“I know you don’t need me to say it, but _I_ need to say it.” He lifted his hand to cup her cheek, and she leaned into his familiar touch. “Be careful, Tasha.”

She nodded just slightly, placing her hand over his. “I’ll see you in a few days, Clint.”

Clint gave her a small, half-smile, “See you in a few days, Natasha.”

They didn’t say anything else, their eyes saying everything they needed to, before Clint’s hand fell from her cheek and she turned and headed onto the quinjet.

\---

Most of the flight had been silent, as was wont to happen when Natasha and May found themselves alone together, neither feeling the need to fill the silence with menial chatter.

However, when they were about fifteen minutes out from their destination, May broke the quiet. “What you and Barton are doing for Fitz and Simmons,” she started, causing Natasha to turn to her, “it’s a good idea.”

Natasha had seen enough in the months she and Clint had been at the Playground to know that May cared just as much for their team as Coulson did, even if she didn’t outwardly show it. Even though she understood what May was really trying to say, she respected her desire to keep the conversation professional. “We saw an opportunity and we took it. If they wanted to help in the field, they needed the training, and Clint and I were available.”

May was quiet for a moment, then she gave a barely audible sigh. “They should’ve had the training long before we let them out in the field.”

“The past is the past,” Natasha said simply, though they both knew she wasn’t just talking about Fitz and Jemma. “There’s no use dwelling on choices and decisions we made.”

This time, there was no response from May, and the silence hung over them once more. However, Natasha was the one to break it this time.

“Ready for this?”

May shot her a brief glance. “From your tone, I’m assuming you’re implying there’s no way I _could_ be ready.”  
Natasha pressed her lips together, pausing for a moment before she said, “I’m not going to insult you by implying that you can’t withstand torture and more than hold your own in a fight, because we both know that would be complete bullshit. But, I’m going to be the first to admit that there’s no way to fully prepare yourself for what happens in those walls.”

There was a beat before May simply replied, “Thanks for the warning.”

Natasha’s lips just barely quirked up in a smirk.

\---

“We received updated information from the trackers late last night,” Coulson informed them, pulling up the information on the screen at the front of his office. “According to their biorhythms, they’re both asleep, and are steadily making their way in the direction of Russia.”

“So, I guess the gamble paid off; Petrovich wanted Agent May too,” Rogers commented, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’ll be good to have two on the inside rather than one.” He nodded at Jemma appreciatively. “Good call, Agent Simmons.”

Jemma somehow managed to nod in response, but her fingers were digging into Fitz’s arm. He threw a look at her. “ _Ow, Jemma_ ,” he said pointedly under his breath.

“Shh,” she hushed him, ignoring his affronted look.

“From the time they reach the Red Room, we will give them twenty-four hours to gain as much information as they can about what HYDRA needed from Petrovich, and then we will infiltrate the base,” Coulson said, summarizing the next phase of the plan that they’d discussed at length in briefings before Natasha and May had left. “We should be getting some specs on what we’re looking at in the Red Room once they arrive there. We’ll have another briefing once that information is in.”

Taking that as the dismissal it was, the group began to disperse, and Jemma quickly tugged Fitz out of the room and down the hall a bit to hiss at him excitedly, “Did you hear that?! Captain Rogers just told me I’d made a good call!”

“I have ears, Jem,” Fitz reminded her, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, be happier for me, will you?” Jemma’s tone was an attempt at annoyance, but she was still too excited to get it right. “Do you think I should ask him now about Peggy Carter? I mean, he _knew_ her! They were _friends_!”

“I don’t think you should,” Fitz said, wincing at the dark look she gave him.

“And why is that?”

“Well…‘cause…I mean, what if she was like… _more than a friend_ , like everyone says? Wouldn’t it make him sad?”

Jemma bit her lip, her expression falling. “Oh Leo, you’re right. I didn’t think about that.” She threw a wistful look over her shoulder as she saw Rogers leaving Coulson’s office alongside Stark, Thor, and Banner. “There goes my chance, then.” She sighed, her shoulders drooping. “I guess I’ll never know what it was like to know Peggy Carter.”

-

Fitz cleared his throat, fighting the urge to run away when Rogers looked up. _No going back now, then._ “Um…hello, er…Captain.” Quickly, he corrected, “I mean Captain _Rogers_.”

Rogers chuckled, smiling warmly. “Please, call me Steve. We’re all on the same team here.”

Fitz nodded a bit too quickly, and he wondered briefly if Rogers – _Steve_ – thought he was mentally unstable. “It’s just…um…y’know my girlfriend, Jemma?” Then, he let out a string of curses in his head because _of course_ Steve knew Jemma – he’d talked right to her in the briefing earlier.

Steve’s smile was amused as he assured Fitz, “Yes, I do.”

Nervously, Fitz shoved his hands into his pockets before pulling them back out and clasping them together. “Okay, well…you see, Jemma’s role model, ever since she was a little girl, has always been Peggy Carter…” He noticed Steve’s smile dim just a bit, and he hastened to add, “And she’s been desperate to ask you about her since you got here, but I convinced her not to ‘cause you were friends and I know I wouldn’t want to talk about Jemma to anyone if it’d been us, but she just got so _sad_ and well, I can never stand to see her sad, y’know? So, I figured I’d be the insensitive jerk that asked you ‘cause I want her to be happy.”

It was a long moment of Fitz fidgeting anxiously before Steve reached out and placed a hand on Fitz’s shoulder, and Fitz pretended that he didn’t notice that Steve’s arm made his look like a noodle. “I’d be happy to answer any questions that she has about Peggy. I know she’d be flattered to know that Jemma looks up to her so much.”

Fitz nearly fainted with relief. “Thanks, Capta- _Steve_. Really, you have _no idea_ how much this’ll mean to her.”

“I’m glad to help,” Steve assured him. “Why don’t you go find her, and I’ll meet you in the lounge in ten?”

“Done,” Fitz agreed instantly.

-

“Jemma, I’ve got a surprise for you,” Fitz said suddenly, appearing out of nowhere across the lab table from her.

“What?” Jemma raised her goggles to the top of her head, arching an eyebrow at Fitz’s barely held back grin. “What are you up to?”

“You’ll see,” he said simply, moving around the table to take the goggles off her head carefully and place them on the lab table. He grabbed her arm and began leading her to the door.

“Leo! I was in the middle of something!” she cried, trying to tug her arm out of his grip.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be there when you get back.” He wasn’t relenting, so Jemma sighed and went with him, figuring that the sooner she cooperated, the sooner she could get back to her work.

After a few moments, Jemma realized where he was leading her. “What could you possibly have to surprise me in the lounge?”

“Jemma, be _patient_ ,” Fitz sighed, giving her a look.

“I _am_ patient,” she muttered defensively.

As they entered the lounge, Fitz led her right over to one of the couches, and Jemma realized that someone was sitting on the opposite one. She sucked in a gasp as she glanced quickly between Fitz and _Steve Rogers_. Fitz was now grinning from ear to ear, and she couldn’t believe this was happening.

Rogers stood as they came closer, smiling warmly. “I heard that you had some questions for me?”

Jemma turned to Fitz, throwing her arms around him in a quick but tight hug. “ _I love you_ ,” she whispered fiercely in his ear, pressing a kiss to his neck, before she pulled back to grin gleefully at Rogers. “Oh yes, I do, Captain Rogers.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Like I told Fitz, please call me Steve.” He gestured for her to take a seat, and she immediately complied, dropping onto the couch behind her, Fitz sitting beside her, and Steve taking his seat across from them.

Jemma’s hands were shaking in her lap as she asked immediately, “What was she like?”

Steve’s smile was soft and tinged in something like grief as his gaze became faraway. “She was the best woman I’ve ever known. She was strong, fierce, a force to be reckoned with.” He gave a little chuckle as he obviously thought of some long-lost memory. “The cadets thought that they could push her around because she was a woman. She corrected that assumption very quickly. She never shied away from a challenge. Nothing was too great or difficult. Not for Peggy.”

Jemma reached over and grasped Fitz’s hand in her own, her fingers digging into his tightly. “What was it like to fight alongside her?”

Steve’s smile grew fond as he shook his head. “It was like fighting alongside any of the other men in the army. She never let anyone treat her differently, and she never gave us the chance to _remember_ that she was a woman among men. Peggy held _more_ than her own in a battle, and I always felt lucky to have her there with me. Honestly, we’d have lost a lot more men if Peggy hadn’t been in a few key battles. I was always in awe of her seemingly endless strength.”

“So, she was everything that the history books said?” Jemma asked, leaning forward slightly, unable to believe it. So rarely did a person’s role model turn out to be just like they’d imagined them.

“Well…” Steve chuckled, giving a small shrug. “ _I_ think she was. I’m a bit biased, though. Of course, I don’t really know _what_ the history books say about her, but I’m willing to bet that every single thing they said is true. She’s an amazing woman, and from what I’ve heard of her time after the war, she only continued to impress and amaze. If you’re asking me, Peggy Carter is all of what I’ve attempted to describe to you and more. To be in her presence…it was like feeling strength coming off of her in waves. She _was_ strength.”

Jemma squeezed Fitz’s hand tightly. “Thank you so much, Steve.” Biting her lip, she added hesitantly, “I…I’m sorry if…if this brought up anything…”

Steve shook his head, holding up a hand to cut off that train of thought. “Don’t worry. There isn’t really a time when I’m not thinking about the past. It’s nice to be able to share it with someone.” He stood from his seat, smiling down at them. “You know, I’m not surprised that Natasha took to you both so quickly.” With that cryptic statement, Steve left the lounge.

Frowning, Fitz turned to Jemma. “What d’you think he meant by that?”

Jemma, however, wasn’t really listening. “Leo! Did you hear that? _Peggy Carter_ was _exactly_ like I imagined! Oh, this is wonderful!” She eagerly clasped her hands together in front of her. “I’m not surprised Steve said she was the strongest woman he’s ever known, she just seems like that kind of person, don’t you think? I don’t think there’s a woman that’s ever existed as strong as her! To think, she was fighting side-by-side with men in the _1940s_!”

“I don’t know, Jem,” Fitz started, finally causing her smile to fade and her focus to return to him, “I think I know a woman as strong as Peggy Carter. Maybe even stronger.”

The way he was looking at her in _that way_. The way that Skye had admitted he’d _always_ looked at her when she hadn’t been looking. The way that he didn’t bother to hide anymore. The way that always made her stomach do a little flip and her heart beat quicker. The way that made her think that _for some reason_ he thought she was the one that put the sun in the sky.

And, Jemma’s response was the same as always. She blushed, lowered her gaze to her lap and awkwardly played with the hem of her shirt. Even though she didn’t agree with him, she knew they’d spend the next who knew how long arguing over it, so she took it for the compliment for what it was and simply sighed, “Oh _Leo_.”

Shaking her head, she suddenly realized that she’d thanked Steve, but she hadn’t thanked _Fitz_ , who had set the whole thing up.

Quickly, Jemma glanced up at him, and found that look still on his face even as she placed her hands on either side of it and leaned forward. “You are the _best_ ,” she whispered, accentuating each word with a kiss to both of his cheeks, his forehead, and finally his lips. “Truly, the best. Thank you so much.”

“It was nothing, Jem,” Fitz assured her, his hands sliding around her waist to hold her closer. “I knew it’d make you happy, so I made it happen.”

She pulled back to roll her eyes at him, even as she was still grinning widely. “Oh hush, Leo.”

\---

Later that night, Fitz and Jemma were in the lab, on duty monitoring the biorhythms from Natasha and May that the trackers were sending periodically. They had been unchanging since that morning, when the two women had been obviously captured and drugged before beginning a journey to Russia.

However, they both looked up when there was a sudden spike.

“Oh!” Jemma cried, pointing at it excitedly. “They’re awake!”

“They must be at the Red Room,” Fitz commented, his eyes wide. “Look, they’ve stopped moving, too. Based on the trackers’ GPS, they’re in the middle of _nowhere_. There’s no civilization for at least a couple thousand kilometers.”

Jemma rolled her eyes at Fitz. “Well of _course_ , Leo. Why would they set up a brainwashing spy program in the middle of a _town_?”

“I was just making an observation _Jemma_.”

“How’s it going?”

The couple turned at the same moment, seeing Clint coming up behind them, his arms crossed over his chest and an eyebrow raised.

“Oh, very well,” Jemma answered immediately. “They’ve woken up from whatever drug they’d been given, and they’ve stopped moving, which means the Red Room is _here_.” She pointed to the spots of the trackers on the GPS.

Clint’s jaw clenched visibly, and Jemma could only imagine what he must be thinking. She knew that she was worried to death about the fact that they’d literally handed Natasha over to her former abusers, along with May. But, she had to keep reminding herself that it was for an incredibly good reason, and that Natasha and May could get through it.

“Clint,” she started, trying to come up with something to say to help.

But, he gave a sharp nod and took a step back. “I’ll inform Coulson.” Then, he stalked out of the lab, leaving Jemma staring after him with a wince on her face.

“I probably should’ve left it, huh?” she asked, turning to Fitz for confirmation.

He shrugged, placing his hand over hers reassuringly. “Clint isn’t fond of talking even when the woman he loves isn’t in danger; I can hardly imagine that would change ‘cause she is.”

Jemma nodded, biting her lip anxiously. “I wish there was something we could do.”

Fitz sighed, glancing at the data they were receiving from the trackers covering the monitor. “We’re doing what we can, Jem.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I made a few choices with this chapter to not write the scene where Natasha and May get captured because I could never do that kind of scene justice and any scenes of their time in the Red Room because I didn't want to depict graphic violence of that nature, so therefore it is only mentioned. I hope no one is disappointed by these decisions and I explained my reasoning them for them well enough.


	11. Chapter Ten

They were all up early the next morning, called to Coulson’s office for a final briefing before they began the long flight to Russia. By the time they arrived, the twenty-four hours would be up and they’d be moving in to get Natasha and May, whether they’d gotten any information or not.

“From what we could tell of the compound, there appear to be three separate entrances, presumably all heavily guarded,” Coulson was saying, pointing to the vague shape of the area that the trackers had been able to send to them, along with whatever information Natasha had been able to give them of what the inside looked like. “Therefore, we’ll mount a three-pronged assault. Hawkeye, Fitz, and Simmons will enter from this side entrance,” he pointed to it on the screen. “Which is where, from what we know, the alarm system is kept. Fitz will disable the alarm, and then Stark, Skye, Trip, and I will enter from the other side entrance.

“Thor, Captain America, and Banner will enter from the front, taking the attention off of the two covert teams entering from the side entrances. They’ll be considered a big enough threat that, hopefully, all defenses will be deployed and they’ll be able to take them out. The two other teams will find Black Widow and May and any other captives.

“This mission is delicate, given that we’re dealing with brainwashed individuals. If you can, knock them out instead of taking them out. Black Widow has shown us that without the Red Room’s influence, they are most likely not to be threats and could even be potential assets. Petrovich and any other high-ranking officials within the Red Room hierarchy are to be taken out on sight. They’re too dangerous to be taken into custody.” He glanced around the room, an eyebrow raised, before he asked, “Any questions?”

Stark raised his hand even as he started, “Um, yeah, why I am not considered a ‘big enough threat’?”

Coulson looked incredibly close to rolling his eyes. “Because you’re needed to help me, Skye, and Trip get the captives out. We’re going to need the firepower if we run into anything we’re not expecting.”

“Oh _alright_ ,” Stark sighed like it was a chore, crossing his arms over his chest.

“If there are no more _questions_?” Coulson waited a beat before nodding. “Alright everyone, suit up. Wheels up in twenty.”

Jemma was leaving Coulson’s office with Fitz when Skye jogged up to join them. "Alright, how freaking awesome is this?" she asked, clearly trying to make light of the situation. "We're going to be fighting side-by-side with the _Avengers_! Like, how many people actually get to experience this?!”

“Not many,” Jemma answered half-heartedly. The closer they got to the mission, the more worried she was becoming. What if something had happened to Natasha and May? What if they were found out before they got there and were killed? There were so many things that could go wrong, and she didn’t like the feeling of being out of control of the outcome.

Skye gave her a small smile, squeezing her shoulder, before she split away from them to head to her room. Fitz and Jemma continued down the adjoining hall before reaching his room. Wordlessly, they entered it, and he closed the door behind them. “Jemma,” he started softly.

She shook her head, turning to him and wrapping her arms around him. “Everything’s going to be okay, right?” she whispered, pressing her face against his neck and breathing in the familiar scent of him, allowing it to calm her down.

His arms came up to wrap around her tightly, and she felt him nod against the top of her head. “Everything’s going to be okay, Jemma.”

-

Jemma and Fitz arrived at the hangar not long after, and she noticed Pepper and Tony off to one side and Jane and Thor to the other, the women obviously wishing their significant other luck. She slipped her hand into Fitz’s and murmured, “I don’t know how they do it all the time.”

He didn’t respond, and Jemma thought it was likely because he didn’t have an answer.

They continued across the hangar toward the open ramp of the Bus, but she hesitated just before stepping onto the ramp. When Fitz felt her hand tugging against his, he glanced back and saw her paralyzed, staring up at the Bus. “Jem?”

She bit down on her bottom lip, feeling her legs beginning to quiver as she remembered the last time she’d been on the Bus with Fitz. Closing her eyes, she saw flashes of Ward hitting the release button, glimpses of the sky before she’d passed out, Fitz’s tears and blood-streaked face before the water rushed in…

On the verge of hyperventilating as the memories she tried to forget flooded her, Jemma’s eyes flew open when Fitz’s arms enveloped her. “I told you everything was going to be okay,” he whispered soothingly. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, Jemma. I promise. This time is gonna be different. I’m right here, okay?”

She held onto him tightly, the only thing keeping her afloat in her panic. He was here, he was fine. They weren’t in the ocean, and they were alright.

“Okay,” she breathed. She knew that she could trust him more than anyone. “Okay.”

Fitz pressed a kiss to her temple before he released her, save for her hand, and slowly led her onto the Bus. “If it helps, I try to think ‘bout all the good times we had,” he told her, nodding at the lab, “Practically our second home, yeah?”

Jemma nodded, squeezing his hand in thanks. “We had some really good times, didn’t we?”

“And just think, if you hadn’t dragged me out into the field…” He let his statement trail off, but he gaze was pointedly trained on their joined hands before he gave her a shy smile.

“I don’t want to think about that,” Jemma admitted, wincing.

“Then we won’t.” Fitz led her up the stairs to the main living area of the plane, and his gaze landed on Clint standing by one of the windows, staring mindlessly out it. “Hey, you get seated, okay? I’ll be right back.”

Jemma nodded, briefly stroking the back of his hand with her thumb before she released it and went to take her seat.

-

"Hey," Fitz greeted quietly.

Clint turned his head just enough to glance at Fitz and give him a nod of greeting before he returned to staring out the window.

"You know…Natasha is one of the scariest women I've ever met," Fitz started.

Clint gave a small chuckle. "Yeah," he agreed gruffly.

"And I've seen her training dozens of times over the past few months," he continued, noticing the way Clint sighed, probably having heard plenty of times recently about how badass Natasha was and how this would be a piece of cake for her. Plowing on, Fitz said, "But I know that even with all the skill and the training in the world, it wouldn't stop me from worrying if it was Jemma." Finally, Clint turned to face him, an unreadable look on his face, so Fitz finished with, "It's okay to worry about them, because it just means we love them, yeah? Just because they can protect themselves doesn't mean we aren't gonna worry about them."

After a moment, Clint gave a small nod. "Yeah," he answered simply.

Fitz knew that Clint was a man of far too few words and had issues with expressing things, but he still understood that Clint was grateful for what he'd said. Giving the older man a small smile, Fitz patted him on the shoulder and went back to rejoin Jemma.

"How is he?" Jemma asked softly, the concern obvious in her tone.

"As well as can be expected," Fitz sighed, finding Jemma's hand with his and lacing their fingers. "Better, even. I know if it was me, us…I'd be a wreck."

Jemma squeezed his fingers gently. "Well, you know how he is. I’d bet he’s likely a wreck on the inside. But, he knows he has to be strong for her. It…it must be so hard."

"I can't imagine," Fitz agreed quietly. After a moment, he murmured, "Please be careful, Jemma,” running his thumb over the back of her hand. "If we get separated, just…be careful."

"You too," Jemma reminded him softly. "You'll be careful too."

It wasn’t a question, but Fitz still assured her, "Of course."

\---

Natasha forced down the sick feeling that twisted through her stomach as she entered Petrovich’s office. It looked exactly the same as she remembered it – which is what made it so much worse.

All of a sudden, hundreds of horrible memories from this very room assaulted her thoughts – memories she’d buried and spent years forgetting about. More than anything, she wanted to just curl up beside Clint and talk it out with him, like they’d done after she’d defected, once she felt comfortable enough to share her past with him. Talking to him had always made it seem so much easier to deal with.

“You wanted to see me?” she asked, not bothering to hide her contempt and utter disgust for the man sitting at the desk right near the door.

He stood, taking the few steps to reach her, his frame towering over her just like it had when she was little. “Natalia, it is good to see you up.”

Natasha scoffed. “You honestly think that a few little cuts and bruises would keep me down?” Trying not to make it too obvious, she stepped away from him, glancing at the World War II propaganda framed on the wall and antique weapons that he was so proud of as though they interested her. She needed to put distance between them, needed to remind him that she didn’t belong to him, and she never would again.

“Of course not, Natalia.” She fought against a flinch. She couldn’t let him see how much that name bothered her. “You were always the strongest.”

His voice was now right behind her, and she tensed in response. There hadn’t been very many choices of where to go in the room, but she’d clearly made the wrong decision and backed herself into a corner. _Stupid move, Natasha. You let your past feelings cloud what you_ should’ve _been doing. Don’t forget the mission_. “Not quite. There was always someone who could best me.” She turned to him, peering up at him through her eyelashes and trying not to be sick.

Petrovich’s answering smile was as cold as the weather outside. “Ah yes, you never _were_ able to get the upper hand on me, were you?” He chuckled, reaching out to stroke his knuckles over her neck. She shuddered, her skin crawling at his simple touch. Then, in a flash, his hand had wrapped around her throat and he’d slammed her up against the wall. “Did you really think I wouldn’t know what you were doing here?”

Natasha’s hands fisted at her sides, and she knew the mission had been compromised, but the team should be here any moment if her internal clock was right (which it always was). So, she attempted to salvage what she could.

Dropping the façade, she narrowed her eyes and asked bluntly, “So, what is it, exactly, that you have that HYDRA needs?”

Petrovich raised an impressed eyebrow. “Ah, so that is the reason you have returned to me, Natalia. They warned me that this could be a trap.” He gave a hearty laugh, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye with his free hand. “Ah, Natalia, they do not understand us, do they? _Of course_ I knew this was a trap. That is why I set one of my own.”

Before that could even fully sink in for Natasha, there was the sound of an explosion somewhere that rocked the entire compound.

“It appears your friends have arrived,” Petrovich observed, a menacing smile curling his lips that revealed all of his teeth. “Time for the fun to begin, Natalia.”


	12. Chapter Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is the infiltration of the Red Room and I've already said I'm the best at writing fight scenes so fair warning. Along those same lines, I didn't write scenes of what the other teams were doing at this time because they're not the main focus of the story but what they were doing will be explained in later chapters.

The Red Room, for all the horrible things done there and the evil committed within its walls, looked incredibly unassuming from the outside. It was a one-story compound made of metal, and stretched out to cover quite a bit of land. There were no markings on the metal, nothing declaring it a brainwashing factory of torture.

“Did you expect that it would?” Jemma asked, wrinkling her nose when Fitz voiced his thoughts.

“Well…no,” he responded defensively. “Just…you’d think it would give _some_ indication of what’s going on in there, yeah?”

“ _Shh_ ,” Clint hushed them, not tearing his eyes from the compound as he held out a hand, one finger up as the universal sign to shut up. Fitz rolled his eyes, but hunkered further down behind the boulder Clint had chosen as their cover.

Just then, they heard Coulson saying over the comm, “ _Team one, go_.”

From their hiding place, Fitz didn’t have a very good vantage point, so he couldn’t see Captain America, Thor, and _the Hulk_ attacking the front door and forcing their way in, but he could sure as hell hear it. It was like a bomb going off, and he swore the ground shook.

“That’s our cue,” Clint muttered at the same time that Coulson gave them the go-ahead over comms.

As they jumped up out of their hiding place and prepared to rush toward the compound, Fitz grabbed Jemma’s arm and pulled her back to him to give her a quick but firm kiss before following Clint’s hurried footsteps toward the side door.

Clint shot the arrow that Fitz had designed (but he’d never even _known_ until a couple weeks ago that Clint even _had_ it) that latched onto the door and unlocked it. As they reached it, Clint kicked it open and shot the two security personnel guarding the room.

“Clear,” he called over his shoulder, and Fitz and Jemma quickly followed him inside.

It didn’t take long for Fitz to identify the security system, and he hurried over, yanking the covering off and tossing it to the ground.

As he got a good look at it, he commented, “This is a really simple system.” His brow furrowed as he easily tugged out one of the wires and clipped it. “You’d think a criminal organization like this would have better security.” Shrugging it off, he lifted a hand to his comm and said, “Clear to enter.”

Clint led the way further into the base, and Fitz heard a loud roar echoing through the dimly lit metal halls, and he glanced at Jemma with wide eyes.

Out of nowhere, three black-clad women of varying ages had descended on them, and Clint immediately shot a taser arrow at one, easily taking her down. However, the other two were able to avoid the arrows, and he dropped his bow to engage one in hand-to-hand.

Which left the other to Fitz and Jemma.

His hand twitched to the ICER attached to his belt, but he was forced to dodge as the woman threw a punch at him.

_I can do this. It’s just like fighting Natasha. Well…except, Natasha never tried to kill us._

Fitz winced at that, but dodged again as the woman spun at kick at him. Her boot-clad heel hit the steel wall, knocking her slightly off balance, and then all of a sudden she was on her back on the floor. Then, he noticed Jemma behind her, just coming out of crouch.

 _Right. We know how to fight. We’re kind of like field agents now_.

The woman was back on her feet in a moment, and Fitz was waiting with a punch delivered swiftly to her cheek, and he ignored the fact that he was hitting a girl because well, she was a girl that was trying to _kill_ him, so it probably didn’t count.

Her slight staggering caused her to fall back into Jemma’s quickly delivered kick, and the woman dropped to the ground. In a flash, Jemma had her ICER out and shot the woman in the chest.

Fitz looked up at her in surprise and she smirked at him. “Am I going to have to do all the work?” she asked teasingly.

He gaped at her for a moment (he probably – no, _definitely_ – shouldn’t be thinking about how hot that was) before he regained his bearings and defended himself quickly. “She just caught me by surprise! If I’d had two more seconds, I’d have taken her out all by myself!”

Jemma clearly didn’t believe him, given the amusement in her expression, but she still said, “Of course, Leo.”

“You two coming?”

They both turned quickly, finding Clint picking up his bow and standing over a slightly bloodier but also knocked out woman.

“Oh yes, of course!” Jemma said hurriedly, her tone apologetic.

They moved down a few more of the hallways that they’d studied carefully from the vague map Natasha been able to provide, and they found them suspiciously empty. “Keep your eyes open,” Clint warned them under his breath.

“Why would we close them?” Fitz asked, even as he reached back to let his hand hover over his ICER.

Suddenly, two Widows popped out of a connecting hallway and were on them in seconds. Clearly picking out the men as the biggest threats, one went straight for Clint, and the other struck a rather painful punch to Fitz’s jaw.

He jerked back with the force of it, his hand immediately coming up to touch it. “Son of a _bitch_ ,” he hissed, wincing in pain.

“Don’t hit my boyfriend!” Jemma snapped, kicking the woman in the back of her leg. It barely fazed her, but she did spin to face Jemma, at the same time landing a roundhouse kick on Jemma’s side. Jemma winced, but managed to dodge the following punch.

Fitz grabbed for his ICER, but the woman turned back to him, kicking it out of his hand. It skidded away from him, and he didn’t have time to go after it before the woman was throwing another punch at him. “That’s not gonna work twice,” he muttered, ducking to dodge before throwing his shoulder into her stomach and shoving her back.

Jemma was ready, her knee coming up into the back of the Widow’s head _hard_. She fell to the ground, not knocked out, but dazed, giving Jemma the time to use the ICER on her.

Fitz retrieved his own ICER just as Clint’s opponent hit the ground, knocked out the hard way. “They’re not as well trained as Natasha,” Clint commented, frowning down at the two women. “They must be pretty new.”

Fitz didn’t really want to think about what that meant for these girls, so instead he turned to Jemma and said jokingly, “We’re pretty good at this. I’m beginning to think we went to the wrong academy.”

Jemma rolled her eyes at him, but there was a grin playing around her lips. “We’re not even close to the level field agents are on, Leo.”

“But, you do work well together,” Clint observed, beginning to lead the way through the halls once more. “Do you know how long field agents have to work together to have that kind of understanding in a fight? At your level, two agents usually get in each other’s ways and screw everything up.”

Jemma turned a bright grin on Fitz as she told Clint, “We always work well together.”

Fitz returned the smile, reaching over to briefly squeeze her hand.

They finished their designated search area, and only found a lot of empty rooms. They’d found some sort of training room, blood long dried on the walls that seemingly no one had ever bothered to clean, and quite a few “bedrooms” with rows of beds, lacking anything other than a pillow and a sheet. It was frankly sickening, and the entire time, it was easy to see Clint’s jaw getting tighter and tighter.

This was where Natasha had grown up. For over a decade and a half, this was Natasha’s only _home_.

Just the idea of that was enough to make Fitz sick. No one ever deserved to live like this.

Finally, they reached their end point, near the back of the base. They hadn’t come across any more hostiles, which Clint had said was still suspicious, but it also meant that it was likely the distraction provided by Captain America, Thor, and Dr. Banner had worked.

Pausing at the junction between their hallway and where it led further into the base, Fitz said “This hallway is clear, we should proceed to the meeting place.”

Clint shook his head. “You two go, I need to find Natasha.”

Fitz wasn’t going to argue, because he completely understood, given that they hadn’t heard anything over the comms about anyone finding her yet. “Alright.” He turned to Jemma, meeting her eyes and nodded down the hall they’d come from. “Let’s go.”

He noticed Jemma’s eyes flicker toward Clint, who had already turned to move deeper into the base, but then she nodded and he turned to get the hell out of there.

-

Jemma glanced between Fitz’s retreating back, heading toward the meeting place, and Clint’s, clearly moving further into the compound and in search of Natasha.

She knew that she should follow Fitz and leave Clint to do what he was supposed to do, but there was no telling what was waiting and Clint might need her help.

So, taking a deep breath and resolving to explain it to Fitz later and take whatever yelling he was likely to want to do, she turned off her comm and quickly followed behind Clint, keeping her footsteps light like Natasha had showed her.

“Simmons, what the _hell_ are you doing?” Clint asked harshly over his shoulder, pulling an arrow from his quiver and notching it on his bow as he quickly moved along the corridor. “Get back there.”

“ _No_ ,” Jemma whispered fiercely. “I can help you, Clint.”

He threw a sharp look at her over his shoulder. “It’s gonna _help_ me to not have to watch after you. I have a plan, and you aren’t part of it.”

Jemma’s jaw dropped at his insensitive words, but before she could find the appropriate response, they had reached the room the furthest into the compound, which appeared to be a large office of some sorts, and standing at the very back of the room, was a tall, intimidating man with thick graying hair.

“Stay _hidden_ ,” Clint snapped at her under his breath, giving her a push in the direction of the desk near the door before he entered the room with his bow raised and an arrow pointed right at the man that Jemma could now see had Natasha corned and pressed against the far wall with his left hand wrapped around her throat.

The man turned to face Clint, a gun suddenly in his free hand. “Is this him?” the man asked Natasha in a heavy Russian accent, his dark eyes narrowed and his gun pointed right at Clint’s head. “Is this the man that ruined you, Natalia?”

“ _Don’t call me that,_ ” Natasha spat through gritted teeth.

“So, it is.” The man, who _must’ve_ been Petrovich, tightened his hand around Natasha’s throat, his hand unwavering as he kept his sights on Clint. “She was perfect before _you_ came along. You’ve ruined my favorite. I should put bullet through your head just for that.”

“She’s always been perfect,” Clint snapped, his arrow still notched and ready.

Petrovich chuckled, the sound hollow and cold, causing a shiver to run down Jemma’s spine. She wanted to just raise her ICER and knock Petrovich out – there was even a part of her that wanted to pull the real, loaded gun from her belt and shoot him for everything he’d done to Natasha and so many other girls, but she restrained herself, knowing that Clint had told her to stay hidden and stay out of it.

“Put down that _archaic_ weapon, _boy_ ,” Petrovich commanded, motioning with his gun for Clint to do what he’d said. Jemma noticed Clint’s jaw clench, but he relented, setting his bow down at his feet and straightening back up. “Hands over your head.”

After a moment, Clint followed the direction, raising his hands up. “Real men don’t need weapons, anyway,” he commented, his tone sharp.

Petrovich just gave that hollow chuckle again. “I hope, for your sake _boy_ , she at least gave you a good time.” Then, he was pressing down on the trigger, his gun aimed right at Clint’s head.

“ _No_!” Jemma cried, jumping out without thinking it over and bringing everyone’s attention to her, but also staying Petrovich’s finger and potentially saving Clint’s life.

Then, without even blinking, Petrovich turned the gun on her and fired.


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So let me just say that I was supposed to post yesterday, and I didn't mean for this chapter to take longer, especially with how the last one ended. I was sick yesterday and I couldn't do much of anything, let alone edit and post the chapter. I'm sorry for making everyone wait!

“ _Jemma_!” Natasha couldn’t decide if she was pissed off or scared to death as she watched Jemma’s eyes grow wide with complete shock before she hit the ground _hard_. Her immediate response was to go check on Jemma and make sure she was alright, but Natasha knew there was something she had to take care of first if she was going to be able to help Jemma.

So, she pushed her concern to the back of her mind and focused on the man currently holding her by the neck. Taking Petrovich’s momentary distraction to her advantage, Natasha swung her leg up and hit him full in the chest with her knee.

It wasn’t enough to knock the wind out of him, but it was enough to force him to let go of her throat. She immediately dropped into a crouch, and when she heard the _crack_ of his fist hitting the wall, she rolled away from him, not even having to turn to know that Clint had already snatched his bow back from the ground.

Not even a second later, there was the familiar sound of an arrow sailing through the air, and she saw it pierce Petrovich’s shoulder. Natasha felt the beginnings of satisfaction tingle through her at the sight of his blood spattering the walls. She was going to need more than that.

Natasha fell back onto her hands, using the strength in her arms to hold her as she used both her legs to kick Petrovich in his arm, the gun flying from his grip to slide uselessly across the room. Despite getting rid of the gun, Petrovich was still dangerous – Natasha knew that better than anyone.

He struck out with a leg, hoping to knock her over. Natasha flipped backward, skillfully landing on her feet and dodging the punch he’d been about to throw at her. The rage was clear on his face, and Natasha knew that she was getting to him; Petrovich never showed any kind of real emotion.

She twisted her body before smoothly sliding into a spin, landing a kick on his jaw that caused him to stagger back a bit. She followed quickly with a punishing uppercut and she was rewarded with a satisfying crunch.

Then, she felt a tugging on her hair, and she hissed as his fist tightened and he dragged her backwards by his grip. “You cannot beat me Natalia,” he snapped, pausing to spit out a couple teeth, “You are my greatest creation. I created you; I can _destroy_ you just as easily.” Her back hit the ground, and before she could think about getting up, his boot landed on her stomach, pressing down.

“Maybe if I was on my own,” Natasha agreed, her voice cold, “But I’m _not_.”

Three arrows pierced the flesh of Petrovich’s leg in succession, his blood spraying onto Natasha. But, she ignored it and struck quickly, grabbing his already injured leg and twisting in just the right way to break it. Then, she swung her lower body up, her knee hitting his groin in a way that she’d wanted to do for so many years.

In the next moment, she was on her feet and behind him, forcing his vulnerable chest to face Clint. As several arrows sliced through the air and hit their targets, Natasha wrapped her arm around Petrovich’s neck and she _twisted_.

And just like that, the man who had tormented her, her thoughts, and her nightmares for nearly her entire life was gone.

She would’ve loved to draw it out, to torture him in every way she’d imagined over the years. But, she knew that she’d needed to dispatch him as soon as possible – there was a much more important life on the line.

As Clint threw her a comm, he knelt down beside Jemma. Natasha fell to her knees on the opposite side, quickly taking notice of the blood pooling on the ground beneath her. She placed her hands over the wound, the pressure hopefully slowing the bleeding.

“Simmons is down!” Clint snapped over his comm as he pressed his fingers against her neck. He gave Natasha a slight nod, and she let out a relieved breath. “Bullet wound to the chest, weak pulse, but she’s losing too much blood.”

“ _On my way to help you get her out_ ,” Steve stated firmly.

“ _Where are you?!_ ” Natasha heard Fitz demanding over the comm. “ _Damn it Barton, where the_ hell _are you?!_ ”

\---

Fitz found Coulson and a slightly beat-up looking May at the meeting place, and saw Skye with Trip coming from the opposite direction. His heart stopped beating when he saw that Jemma wasn’t, in fact, with them like he’d been telling himself she would be when he couldn’t find her. He’d nearly had a heart attack when he’d realized she was gone, and he’d only put it on hold by believing that she’d already found the others. “Have any of you seen Simmons?” he asked quickly.

There were a few exchanged glances before he got all negative responses. His hands began shaking at his sides, and he gripped the straps of his backpack to try and stop it. _This is all my fault. I should’ve been paying more attention. This is my fault._

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Skye assured him. “She probably met up with Natasha and they’re kicking ass together. Don’t worry, Fitz, Natasha will protect her.”

Just then, the comms crackled to life and Fitz heard Clint snapping, “ _Simmons is down!_ ”

It was then that Fitz felt his entire body go numb.

“ _Bullet wound to the chest, weak pulse, but she’s losing too much blood,_ ” Barton continued, his tone urgent.

Not even a moment later, Steve was saying, “ _I’m on my way to help you get her out._ ”

“Fitz.”

Someone was saying his name, trying to get his attention, but all Fitz could see was Jemma on the ground somewhere, bleeding out and who the _hell_ had the nerve to shoot Jemma?

Reaching up to tap his comm, Fitz demanded, “Where are you?!” When he didn’t get an immediate response, he snapped, “Damn it Barton, where the _hell_ are you?!”

“ _Furthest room in the back of the compound_ ,” Clint finally answered shortly.

Fitz was moving before Clint had even finished, ignoring Coulson calling after him. He ran through the hallways, not even paying attention to if there were any hostiles ready to grab him and take him out. His mind had narrowed down to one thought, _get to Jemma get to Jemma get to Jemma_.

His heart was beating in time with his mantra, and he was barely breathing, but then he saw the only doorway at the end of the long hallway at the back of the base, and he put on his last bit of speed and burst into the room.

The first thing his eyes landed on was the sight of a bloody Natasha and Clint kneeling over… “Oh god, _Jemma_.”

He felt woozy all of a sudden, and bile was rising up in his throat, and he had to throw out a hand to catch himself against the wall. And it wasn’t even because of all the bright red blood seeping out of Jemma and covering her perfect pale skin.

“Fitz! What the hell are you doing here?!” Natasha demanded without looking up. Her hands were pressed over what must’ve been Jemma’s wound. Somewhere far in the back of his mind, Fitz noted that it wasn’t near any critical organs, and _thank god_ it was far enough away from her heart.

“I’m here for Jemma,” he stated firmly, reigning in his crippling fear at the sight of Jemma and collapsing on his knees beside Natasha. Shakily, he reached out and found Jemma’s hand, tightly gripping her fingers in his. “What happened? Who did this to her?” He needed something else to focus on, something besides her little face looking so pained and splashed with red.

“Petrovich,” Clint growled.

Fitz’s eyes widened and he immediately looked up and saw the bloody, lifeless body of an older man with his neck turned the wrong way, several arrows sticking out of his chest. He turned to Natasha quickly. “Did you…?”

“For me, and for Jemma,” Natasha answered, her tone harsh and unforgiving.

Jemma gave a little moan, her eyes squeezing even more tightly closed. “ _Hurts_ ,” she managed, weakly gripping his fingers.

Fitz felt tears in his eyes as he wondered where the hell Steve was with their backup out of this shithole. “It’s okay Jem, I’m here. Everything’s gonna be okay. I promised you I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. It’s gonna be okay, Jemma.”

He thought he saw her bottom lip tremble just slightly before he felt her fingers go slack in his hand and his heart nearly stopped beating.

“ _Jemma_?!”

“She’s still got a pulse,” Clint assured him, his voice low and grave. “But it’s getting weaker.”

Fitz was just about to suggest they get the hell out of there, backup or not, when Steve jogged into the room, his star-spangled uniform torn slightly and red around the edges of the tears, but his expression was determined. “I’ve cleared a path to the exit, but we’ve got to move now before they regroup.”

“I’ll get her,” Clint said, moving to pick Jemma up, but Fitz beat him to it, carefully sliding his arms under her legs and around her back.

“I’ve got her,” Fitz assured him, gently lifting Jemma and taking care not to jostle her too much. She still gave a little whimper of pain that broke his heart, but he forced himself to focus on getting her out and getting her medical help as soon as possible.

Steve led the way through the path he’d cleared, easily knocking out a woman in the all-black uniforms of the Widows with his shield that attempted to attack them.

In what seemed like an eternity and no time at all, they reached the exit, and Fitz picked up speed as the Bus came into view, and he realized with relief that someone must’ve moved it closer to the compound. He hurried up the ramp, and was relieved to see Coulson had had time to prepare for their arrival.

There was a small gathering of the others around the gurney waiting outside the lab, and they looked up at his arrival. He ignored them though, carefully setting Jemma down on the gurney.

“Oh, Jemma,” he heard Skye whisper, and he briefly glanced up and saw tears in her eyes.

“Dr. Banner is waiting in medical,” Coulson informed Fitz, his tone hurried and firm.

Then, there was a flurry of movement as Jemma was transported to medical, and Banner, looking a little worse for wear himself, set to providing whatever emergency care he could that would keep her – Fitz refused to say ‘keep her alive’ because there was no way that anything other than that could happen, not to Jemma – until they got back to the Playground.

Before SHIELD fell, they would’ve either gone to the nearest SHIELD medical facility, or failing that, the nearest hospital and SHIELD would have taken care of the details and made sure nobody asked too many questions. But, now they were no longer considered a part of the government, they’d been marked terrorists, and their only option was to return to the Playground and call ahead for doctors to be waiting.

Fitz refused to leave Jemma’s side the entire way there, refused to take his eyes off of her for even a second, afraid that if he did she was going to disappear.

Somewhere during the journey, Skye came into the room, and gave him a rundown of what had gone down with the other teams.

“It was some kind of trap,” she explained, her eyes constantly shifting around the room for something to look at before going back to Jemma’s prone form, “Not only were there all the Widows, but there were about fifty HYDRA agents there.”

“What happened?” Fitz asked quietly, only finding himself slightly interested.

“Well, I don’t think they were expecting the Avengers to be there. Thor, Cap, and Hulk were actually able to take them down pretty quickly. The Widows required a bit more force, given how scary trained they are, but eventually they were able to knock them all out.”

“Did anyone get hurt?” Fitz clenched his still sore jaw at the involuntary _besides Jemma_ that floated through his thoughts.

“Well, May’s pretty beat up, she said that they’d just begun attempting to break her and that their techniques were laughable but…” He could practically hear Skye’s shrug. “I think it affected her more than she’s admitting.

“One of the Widows got Trip in the arm with a knife pretty good, but he wrapped it up and said it’d be fine until we got back to the Playground. Cap got some cuts and bruises, but he said he was okay. He, Thor, and Stark stayed behind to get the Widows loaded up and back to the base.” After a beat, she added, “You should put some ice on your jaw.”

Fitz ignored her last sentence and asked, “So, they’re just going to bring them in and hope they’re not actually evil?”

“I guess so. Coulson said that we at least have to try. Natasha said she’d talk to them, try to help them through it, but as for right now we’re considering all their actions as ones done against their will.” Skye sighed before she added, “We still don’t know what HYDRA needed from them in first place, but at least we stopped it from happening, whatever it was.”

Fitz gave a sigh of his own, absently stroking the back of Jemma’s hand with his thumb and trying not to think about the promise he’d made to her on the Bus before they’d left. _I won’t let anything happen to you…_

“Fitz?”

He closed his eyes, letting out a long breath as his shoulders tensed. “Skye –”

She cut him off, placing a hand on his shoulder and giving a quick squeeze. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

Skye clearly thought it would be comforting, but all Fitz could think was that those were the exact words he’d said to Jemma before they’d suited up for the mission.

Sometime later, they finally touched down, and there was another flood of movement as doctors raced onto the plane before the ramp had even finished lowering, leading the gurney carrying Jemma out and to the infirmary, and into surgery.

Fitz was left standing in the hall outside, his hands covered in her blood fisted at his sides and tears running down his cheeks.


	14. Chapter Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So first things first, let me just say that I didn't even expect how the last scene of the chapter was going to end up. I just wrote it, paused to wonder where it came from, shrugged it off, and went with it. 
> 
> Also, just a reminder that this is the second to last chapter, not including the epilogue, so we're getting to the end, but I am working on a sequel. There's no telling when it'll be done, but this is definitely not the end :)

Natasha was leaving the room she’d been forced into by medical to check her after she’d been cleared, just like she’d _told_ Clint she would be, when she saw a figure slumped against the wall down the hall from her.

She glanced at the door with the word ‘surgery’ stamped on it in all capital letters before lowering her gaze to where Fitz was sitting with his eyes closed and his head resting against the wall. He was still wearing all of his tactical gear, and was still covered in now drying blood.

Sighing, Natasha continued down the hall until she was standing above him. When he didn’t even open his eyes at her presence, she called his name quietly but firmly, “Fitz.”

He heaved a sigh before peering up at her. “Natasha.”

She knew he wasn’t going to move from this spot unless he was forced to, so she did exactly that and grabbed his arm, yanking him to his feet. He stumbled a bit, giving her an annoyed look, but before he could protest, she told him, “You need to go clean up and change.”

Fitz narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m not leaving this spot.”

Natasha grasped his wrist, twisting his hand to force him to look at his reddened palm. “You are _covered_ in Jemma’s blood, Fitz, who the hell is that helping? When she wakes up, she’s going to be _horrified_ if you come in looking like this. Is that what you want?”

He was staring blankly at his hand for a long moment, his lips pressed together. Finally, he sighed softly and admitted, “What if I’m gone when she gets out of surgery?”

“I’ll stay here,” Natasha promised, shifting her hand to give his a reassuring squeeze before she dropped it back to his side. “I promise, I won’t move from this spot until you get back, Fitz.”

He took a deep breath, clearly thinking it over before he gave a small nod. “Alright.” Relieved, Natasha watched him disappear down the hall before she leant against the wall and waited for him to return.

It wasn’t long after that he reappeared, wearing fresh clothes. His skin was scrubbed nearly raw, clean of any trace of Jemma’s blood. “Thanks,” he said hollowly, retaking his place hunched against the wall.

Even though Natasha knew he’d probably already heard it, she felt the need to remind him, “She’s going to be fine.”

Fitz’s only response was a grunt-like noise, and part of Natasha worried that Fitz was spending too much time with Clint. But, clearly he didn’t want to be disturbed any longer, and Natasha had nothing else to say, so she simply let him be and tried to find something else to occupy her mind.

She found Clint in the training room, a grimly determined look on his face as he took aim at target after target, bullseye after bullseye.

“Clint,” she said softly, coming up behind him and placing a hand on his shoulder.

He was tense beneath her touch for only a moment before he sighed and lowered his bow and turned to face her. “She wasn’t supposed to jump out like that.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow at him. “Did you really expect Jemma to just let Petrovich shoot you without doing anything about it?”

Clint shook his head, frustration coming off of him in waves. “I expected her to listen to me when I said I had a damn plan!”

“Well, you’ve said before that they’re not the best listeners,” she reminded him, attempting to lighten his mood. Knowing him like she did, though, she knew it wasn’t going to work.

He proved her right when he clenched his jaw, closing his eyes tightly. “She wasn’t even supposed to follow me, Tasha. She was supposed to stay with Fitz and meet up with Coulson and get the hell out. I…” He gave a sigh before he admitted, “I feel like I let her down, and I let Fitz down.”

Natasha shook her head, even though he couldn’t see it, as she reached up to place her hands on Clint’s shoulders. “Clint, if there’s one thing I can say for sure, it’s that Fitz doesn’t blame you. He blames _Petrovich_ , because guess what? He’s the one who _shot_ her. You protected her.”

Clint’s eyes opened only to narrow sharply. “I didn’t _protect_ her, Natasha. If I had, she wouldn’t be in there right now!”

“Hey,” she said firmly, placing her hands on either side of his face to force him to look at her. “You _did_ protect her. No matter what you think, you did. The only one to blame for what happened is Petrovich, and he’s _dead_.”

Clint’s gaze was hard on hers for another moment before he closed his eyes once more and let out a long sigh. He gave Natasha a firm nod to show he understood, then pulled her into his arms, crushing her to his chest. Natasha was more than happy to return the embrace, each of them taking comfort from the other.

Without pulling away from the embrace, Clint started quietly, “Speaking of Petrovich…”

Natasha’s eyes closed tightly, her grip on him tightening. “No. I don’t want to talk about it, Clint. He’s dead, and that’s the end of it.”

After a moment, he sighed. “No, it’s not.” Before she could argue, he reminded her gently, “I’m here whenever you decide it’s time, okay?”

Briefly, Natasha considered denying it and continuing to disagree with him, but in the end she didn’t want to get into a fight about it, so she simply mumbled into his shoulder, “Okay.”

\---

Later, Natasha was in the lounge when she saw Fitz enter, his expression upset. She moved across the room to join him, trying to hide the concern tearing its way through her chest and making it hard to breathe as she asked, “How is she?”

Fitz sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Damn doctors won’t talk to me. They _know_ that Jemma and I are together, but they said they can only talk to her immediate family. Isn’t that stupid? I _am_ her family!”

Natasha’s brow creased with surprise before she narrowed her eyes. “Come on.” She grabbed his arm and began dragging him down the hall.

“Where are we going?” Fitz stumbled a bit before righting himself and tugging his arm out of Natasha’s grip and making it a point to walk beside her instead of being dragged.

“To get answers.”

A man Natasha remembered seeing around the base for a few minor injuries, Dr. Ramirez, was just coming out of one of the rooms, and she stalked up to him, slamming him against the wall and shoving her forearm against his throat. He stared at her with wide, horrified eyes. “Wh-what do you want?!”

“To know how Jemma Simmons is,” Natasha said sharply. “Since you seemed to think you weren’t able to tell her _boyfriend_ , why won’t you tell _me_ while you can still talk?”

“You _wouldn’t_ ,” he gasped out, but he didn’t look so sure.

“Try me, _doctor_. I’m not in a very good mood today. You see, a friend of mine just got _shot_ , and I’d like to know how she is.”

He held up his hands, attempting to pacify her. “Look, I can’t –” Dr. Ramirez gagged as Natasha’s arm pressed in closer.

“Can’t _what_? Do you mean _breathe_?” Natasha’s eyes narrowed into slits and she leaned closer, whispering dangerously, “If I were you I’d start talking.”

“She’s stable,” Dr. Ramirez choked out, and Natasha lessened the pressure of her arm. “The surgery went as well as to be expected. We got the bullet out and sewed up the wound. She needs to rest, but she should wake up sometime in the next twelve hours.”

“And my friend Fitz here, Jemma’s _boyfriend_ , can he see her?” When he opened his mouth, she reminded him, “I’d think before I answered that, _doctor_.”

He quickly nodded as best he could with Natasha’s arm shoved against his throat. “O-of course! I’ll take you to her right away!”

“Good answer.” Natasha stepped back, and the man nearly collapsed, his hands landing on his knees as he took big gulps of air. Turning to Fitz smugly, she finally noticed that he was staring at her with his eyes big and round with shock, his jaw hanging open.

“Follow me,” Dr. Ramirez wheezed, staggering slightly as he led the two to a room and opened the door, gesturing inside, where Jemma was lying in the bed, an IV and heart monitor hooked up to her and a tube beneath her nose to aid her breathing.

“Thank you, doctor,” Natasha said, her voice sickly sweet as she smirked at him. He gave a quick, jerky nod before disappearing hastily. Turning to Fitz, Natasha nodded into the room. “There you go, Fitz.”

“That was _terrifying_ ,” Fitz mumbled, his eyes still wide, but he entered the room, immediately taking Jemma’s hand in his. Glancing over his shoulder, he told Natasha sincerely, “Thank you.”

“No problem,” she assured him, giving him a wink before she shut the door to give them some privacy.

“You really had to _choke_ the answers out of one of my doctors?”

Natasha turned, grinning at Coulson’s exasperated expression. “What? He wasn’t even telling _Fitz_ what was going on.”

“So come to _me_ , Natasha. I’m Director of SHIELD, I could’ve gotten this sorted out without anyone getting hurt,” he reminded her firmly.

Natasha shrugged unapologetically. “This was faster. And it’s been awhile since I tortured answers out of someone. Wanted to make sure I wasn’t rusty.”

“Where did we _find_ you?” Coulson asked, shaking his head and looking toward the sky as if praying for help.

Natasha grinned at that, but it became something softer as she admitted quietly, “I can’t…thank you enough, Phil. For taking me in instead of killing me on the spot. For…believing in me when no one else could. And…for taking me away from that place.”

Coulson reached out, placing his hand on her shoulder. “Natasha, you don’t need to thank me. That was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.”

\---

Fitz watched Jemma’s chest rising and falling rhythmically, allowing himself to be calmed by the sight of it, knowing that it meant that she was breathing, she was alive and stable and was going to wake up soon. He hadn’t lost her. No matter how close he’d come, he hadn’t lost her.

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes briefly, lowering his head as he felt tears filling them. He _never_ wanted to feel that helpless ever again. If he never had to see Jemma lying on the ground and bleeding ever again, it would be too soon.

Just then, Fitz glanced up at the sound of a knock on the door before it opened and Clint stuck his head in. “Fitz?”

“You can come in,” Fitz told him, giving the older man a small smile.

Clint nodded, slipping into the room and shutting the door behind him. He hung back by the door, crossing his arms over his chest. “How is she?”

“The doctor said she was stable, and the surgery went good, but she probably won’t wake up for awhile. She needs to rest.” Fitz sighed, dropping his gaze back to Jemma’s face, his fingers tightening around her hand.

“I’m sorry.”

Frowning, Fitz looked back up at Clint in confusion. “Sorry? For what?”

Clint looked almost incredulous, but he shook his head before he explained, “For…not protecting her. I _tried_ , I told her to stay hidden, but she…” He gave another frustrated shake of his head. “She wasn’t supposed to come with me. She was supposed to go with you, but…” Clint closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath, then he reopened them and explained a bit more calmly, “I’d had a plan. I knew that Petrovich would be with Nat, and the confrontation was going down pretty much like we’d figured it would. Damn it, Jemma _should’ve_ known that I can dodge a damn bullet. But, she just jumped right out and…”

Fitz sighed, even as he felt the now familiar horror bubbling up inside him as he heard Clint’s side of the story. “It’s not your fault, Clint. Jemma…she wants to save everyone, it’s…” He gave a small, humorless laugh. “It’s one of my favorite and least favorite things about her. If she could, she would gladly sacrifice herself to save the world, or even just _one_ person.” He shook his head, his eyes sliding closed and his jaw clenching. “It’s just who she is.”

“Tasha’s the same way,” Clint admitted on a sigh. “Doesn’t give a damn about her own life half the time.” There was a moment of silence between the men before Clint said, “Natasha got a pretty bad gunshot not too many years ago.”

Fitz glanced up at him in surprise. “Really?”

Clint nodded. “She got hit in the stomach. Damn bullet went right through her and killed the guy she was supposed to be protecting. I was just finishing an op at the time, and Coulson called me to tell me what happened.” He smirked, giving a small chuckle as he admitted, “I didn’t even finish the damn op. I got the hell out of there and to Nat’s side as quickly as possible. She was in bad shape. By the time they found her, she’d already blacked out and lost a lot of blood.”

“What did you do?”

Clint shrugged slightly, clearly playing it off like it hadn’t been a big deal. “I was there for her. She had a lot of recovery time, and all I could really do was try and help her through it. Nat isn’t good at idle.” Then, he sighed, lowering his eyes before he added lowly, “It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to go through. Nat, as I’m sure you know, is…all strength and power, and to see her like that…to not know if she was even going to make it…” He shook his head, his shoulders tense as he obviously forced himself to voice his feelings. “It was…horrible.”

Fitz glanced down at Jemma as he told Clint quietly, “Seeing Jemma lying there, covered in blood, and not being able to do anything to help her… That was probably one of the worst moments of my life. Jemma is…she’s a constant fixture in my life, and she’s my…well, everything, really, and _god_ Jemma isn’t supposed to get _shot_ and nearly bleed to death and…” He trailed off, unwilling to go any further with that train of thought.

Fitz looked up when he felt Clint’s hand on his shoulder. “I know. And…I’m still sorry, Fitz. No matter what, I’m still going to hold myself responsible. I should’ve told her it was part of the plan, but I didn’t. So, just…know that I’m sorry.”

“Even though I don’t agree, I forgive you. If it’s what you need to hear, then I forgive you, Clint,” Fitz assured him. There was no part of him that blamed Clint. The majority of the blame rested on Petrovich’s shoulders. The tiny bit remaining was on Jemma’s, for leaving him and shutting off her comm and thinking it was somehow a good idea to jump in front of a loaded gun. But, none of it was on Clint.

Clint gave a single nod, briefly giving Fitz’s shoulder a squeeze. “Thank you.” With that, he left the room, leaving Fitz alone with Jemma once more.

\---

Fitz hadn’t left Jemma’s side for hours, and he’d lost track of time. He knew when they’d gotten back to the Playground, it had been about mid-morning, but he wasn’t sure how much time had passed since then. His eyelids were getting heavy, and he couldn’t help but remember that it’d been over twenty-four hours since he’d last slept.

Of course, that just reminded him that the last time he’d slept, Jemma had been curled up against him, and the mission to the Red Room had been a problem for the near future.

Coulson had tried to convince him to go rest not long after they’d gotten back to the base and Fitz had been stationed outside Jemma’s room. There had been a small part of him that had been tempted by the idea, but he hadn’t wanted to leave Jemma.

And, maybe it was stupid, but Fitz didn’t want to go to sleep without Jemma beside him. Ever since they had begun their relationship, Fitz hadn’t slept a single night without her by his side, and he didn’t want to go back to sleeping by himself. He _couldn’t_. He couldn’t imagine going back to his room and lying down in the bed where he and Jemma had first given into their love and spent every night in together since – not without her.

Fitz tried valiantly to stay awake, but eventually, he rested his head on the edge of her bed, her hand still tightly held within his, and he reasoned that a short nap couldn’t hurt.

 _And at least it’s still kind of sleeping with Jemma_ , he told himself just before he began to drift.

It felt as though it was only five minutes later that he heard a soft, “Leo?”

Quickly, his eyes sprung open and the first thing he saw were Jemma’s eyes cracked just slightly, peering at him in confusion. “Jemma,” he gasped out, nearly jumping out of his seat and gripping her hand tighter, relief filling his chest. “Oh _god_ , Jemma.”

She blinked a couple times before she managed to open her eyes completely. He saw her gaze darting around, quickly taking in her surroundings. “What…?”

“Clint told me that you jumped in like a mad woman when Petrovich was going to shoot him,” Fitz explained, unable to keep his frustration with her at bay now that he was sure she was okay. “Even though he had a _plan_.”

Jemma’s eyes widened as she most likely remembered the events that had led to her current condition. “Oh! Is Clint alright?!”

“Clint’s fine,” Fitz answered, raising an eyebrow. “You’re the one that got shot, Jem.”

“Yes, but…” She shook her head slightly. “Tell me that Petrovich is dead.”

“Natasha took care of him,” Fitz assured her. “He…he didn’t have to do this to, Jemma. You weren’t even a _threat_.”

She gave a shrug, then let out a pained hiss at the movement pulling at her wound. “He’s – _was_ – a monster, Leo.”

“No arguments from me,” Fitz muttered darkly, unconsciously tightening his grip on her hand.

Jemma sighed, shaking her head. “Leo, you’re overreacting. That wasn’t a fatal shot. I’m fine.”

Fitz gaped at her, unable to believe what she was saying. “Not a fatal…” He shook his head. “You nearly bled out!”

"Oh Leo, it's fine, see?" Jemma insisted, lowering the sleeve of the gown and displaying the bandage with a bit of red soaking through.

Fitz made a vague choking noise as he gripping her hand tighter. "No that is most certainly _not_ fine, Jemma! A little more to the right and…" He shook his head, unable to go on without bursting into tears, and with the blasé way Jemma was talking about it, that would be embarrassing and probably just make her upset.

" _Fitz_ , I'm fine!"

"But you could have _died_!" He couldn't understand why she was brushing this off like it was nothing, while he kept seeing it happen over and over again every time he closed his eyes. It was all too horrifyingly real that he could've lost her.

"Leo…" She sighed, bringing their hands up to her lips to press a kiss to the back of his. "I promised you I wouldn't leave you, didn't I? I wouldn't break a promise to you. _Never_.”

Fitz pressed his lips together, feeling those traitorous tears building back up. “But, you weren’t in control of what Petrovich did, Jemma. If he’d wanted to, he could’ve shot you in the…” He choked on the word, his eyes lingering on her forehead betraying his horrible thoughts.

“But he _didn’t_ ,” Jemma reminded him. “Leo, I promise that I’m not going to go and _die_ on you or something. Not if I can help it. I’m here, and I’m here to stay.”

He swallowed roughly before he admitted what else was bothering him. "It's just…these past few months have been the best of my life, and sometimes it all just feels like a dream that I'm going to wake up from and realize that it never happened and we're still just friends, or even worse we've never met or became friends and I couldn't handle that and –"

"Leo," Jemma cut in, reaching up with her good arm to press her palm against his cheek. "I feel like that too, you know. I have no idea what I would do without you, how I could even live my life without you beside me. But, this, what we have, it's too real, too beautiful to ever be a figment of our imaginations. And I _promise_ you that I will never let go of what we have. I love you far too much to ever go back to whatever my life was like before." Then, a smile curved her lips, clearly remembering some memory fondly. "This is forever, Leo Fitz."

"Marry me."

The words were out before he even realized he was thinking them, and his eyes grew wide at the same time that Jemma's did.

"…what?" Jemma finally managed.

Fitz sputtered hopelessly for a moment. "I – I mean…I didn't…oh _god_ I – I'm sorry…" As he was saying it, he was backing to the door, looking completely horrified.

"Leo!" Jemma called, but he just continued stumbling over words before he gave her an apologetic look and disappeared. Jemma was left sitting there, staring at the door and wondering what the _hell_ had just happened.


	15. Chapter Fourteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, so here it is, the last chapter - minus the epilogue of course! I hope everyone enjoys it and has enjoyed the story so far as much I enjoyed writing it :)

Jemma looked up absently at the light knock on the doorframe of her room, seeing Natasha standing in the doorway with a small smile. “It’s good to see you up,” she commented as she entered the room.

“It’s good to be up,” Jemma answered, unable to really focus on the conversation as Fitz’s words ran through her mind over and over.

“Even though what you did was stupid,” Natasha added, raising an eyebrow.

Jemma rolled her eyes. “Yes, I’ve heard as much. Don’t worry; I’ve already gotten the lecture.”

Natasha chuckled, deciding to give Jemma the stern talking-to later and attempted to shift the conversation. “I’ve been shot near there before,” she admitted, shifting her sleeve aside to expose the round, puckered scar on her left shoulder, “during the HYDRA takeover. Hurt like a bitch, though probably not as much as yours did.”

“Mhm,” Jemma murmured distractedly.

Natasha righted her sleeve, her brows furrowing in confusion, finally picking up on the other girl’s wandering thoughts. “What’s going on, Jemma?”

Jemma blinked, her eyes finally focusing on Natasha. “What? Oh, it’s nothing.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Natasha raised an eyebrow at Jemma, showing how much she believed the blatant lie. “Yeah, _okay_.”

Sighing, Jemma twisted her fingers together in her lap absently before she admitted in a rush, “I think Leo accidentally asked me to marry him.”

Natasha’s other eyebrow darted up to join the first. “ _Wow_. Okay. What did he say?”

“He said ‘marry me’,” Jemma deadpanned.

“Well, then I can see why you think that.” Natasha tapped her fingers against her upper arm thoughtfully. “Did he sound serious? Was he teasing? I’ve heard of couples jokingly proposing before, though I don't understand how anyone could find that amusing."

Jemma was already shaking her head. “No. He was absolutely serious. But, then he got all nervous and scared and apologized and left the room like it was on fire.”

“Maybe he means it, but he said it too soon, and now he’s afraid you’ll break up with him because you’re not ready,” Natasha offered helpfully.

Jemma thought that over for a moment before something occurred to her, and she asked slowly, “And…if I… _am_ ready?”

Natasha’s eyes grew wide, her arms falling from their crossed position. “Jemma…do you realize what you’re saying? You and Fitz are in love, yes, but you’ve been together for, what, _four months_?”

“Four and a half,” Jemma corrected defensively. “And…well…we may have been in a romantic relationship for only four _and a half_ months, but we’ve been practically inseparable since we were seventeen, Natasha. I’m not sure how much more there is to learn about each other, and I already know I never want a day to pass without him beside me. I mean, really, if we’re being honest, Leo and I have been married in almost every way but legally for _years_.”

Natasha watched her carefully for a long moment, then she gave a small nod. “Well, then I think you’ve made your decision, Jemma.”

“But, what if he didn’t mean it, and now he’s afraid that I think he did, and that I’m going to pressure him into something he isn’t ready for?” Jemma asked worriedly.

Natasha laughed, shaking her head. “I don’t think that’s a possibility, Jemma. But, for argument’s sake, say that it is. Then, just tell him that if he didn’t mean to say it, that you’re not going to hold him to anything, and that you’ll be ready whenever he is.”

“Yes, I could do that,” Jemma agreed, nodding. “Thank you, Natasha.”

“It’s no problem,” Natasha assured her. “I’m glad to help.”

Suddenly curious, Jemma turned to Natasha. “You and Clint have been as close as Leo and I are for a long time as well. Why aren’t you married yet?” Then, she seemed to realize what she’d just asked, as her eyes grew wide and she quickly said, “Oh, you don’t have to answer that, I’m sorry!”

Natasha shook her head slowly, a contemplative look on her face. “It’s fine, Jemma. Clint and I…we’re different from you and Fitz. We’re assassins with pasts as checkered as they come. For the longest time, I wasn’t even sure _who_ I actually was. Marriage just never felt like the right thing for us.”

Jemma tilted her head slightly, narrowing her eyes speculatively. “You’re using the past tense,” she observed.

Natasha pressed her lips together, her arms coming back up to cross over her chest once more. “Well…” Sighing, she shook her head. “Let’s just focus on figuring out what’s going on with you and Fitz, first, alright?”

Jemma eyed Natasha knowingly for a moment before she gave a nod of agreement. “Alright. But, I think the subject is worth revisiting, Natasha.”

“You would,” Natasha said, mock-annoyance in her voice. She gave Jemma an encouraging smile as she began heading for the door. “I should probably get out of here before Fitz comes back – as I’m sure he will.” Just before she left the room, she called, “Good luck, Jemma.”

-

“I just asked Jemma to marry me,” Fitz burst out, leaning against the doorframe heavily, struggling to breathe from his run here.

Clint’s arrow hit the target dead center as he turned to face Fitz, his eyebrows high on his forehead. “Well then.”

Fitz entered the training room, a confused, desperate expression on his face. “I didn’t mean to. It just…slipped out.”

Clint set his bow down on the bench next to its case, placing his quiver down beside it. “And what did she say?”

Flushing, Fitz shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he admitted in a mumble, “She didn’t really say…anything. I kinda left quickly.”

Clint shook his head, looking almost… _amused_. “Did she look scared? Nervous?”

“I don’t _know_! She looked…surprised, I guess.” Fitz shook his head. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Well if she looked scared or nervous, I’d say go back there and tell her it was a mistake.”

Fitz frowned in confusion. “And…what do you suggest because she _didn’t_ look scared or nervous?”

“I’d suggest you figure out if you really meant it, and if you did, you go back there and ask her _for real,_ ” Clint explained, crossing his arms over his chest.

Fitz’s jaw dropped open, his eyes wide. “Are you _mental_?! Jemma and I _just_ started dating four and a half months ago!”

“Alright, so you’re telling me that if she said yes, you wouldn’t be thrilled?”

“I…I don’t _know_.”

“Think about it,” Clint insisted, waving his hand at Fitz to encourage him to do as he said.

Sighing, Fitz imagined asking Jemma to marry him _right now_ instead of sometime soon but still in the future, like he’d been planning. He imagined her with tears in her eyes, nodding quickly and pulling him in for a kiss. Most importantly, he imagined Jemma walking around the base wearing his ring.

His heart beating faster and heat spreading through his veins, Fitz admitted, “I might be a bit excited.”

Clint gave an amused chuckle, shaking his head. “So, what are you waiting for? You’ll never find out for sure if you don’t ask.”

Fitz gaped at him. “Yeah, it’s one thing to _imagine_ her saying yes now, but there’s no guarantee she won’t turn me down flat!”

“Not that I think there’s a chance of that happening, but if you think there is, then explain to her first that it’s more than okay to say no,” Clint offered. “That way, she doesn’t feel pressured to say yes or lose what you already have.”

Fitz peered at Clint suspiciously. “You seem very knowledgeable on this subject. Have you ever proposed before?”

A bittersweet smile crossed Clint’s lips. “No, I haven’t. And I probably won’t ever. Nat’s made it clear that she doesn’t think she’s marriage material. I don’t really care, as long as we get to spend our lives together, wedding or no wedding.”

Fitz nodded slowly, soaking that in. “Thanks, Clint,” he told the other man genuinely. As he was leaving the training room, he paused in the doorway and called over his shoulder, “And just so you know, in my opinion, I think she’d say yes.”

They both knew he wasn’t talking about Jemma.

-

Jemma looked up at the sound of quick, heavy footfalls coming down the hall and heading toward her room. In the next moment, Fitz appeared, clearly having rushed here from wherever he’d disappeared to.

"Leo," Jemma gasped as he came bursting back into the room. Immediately, she opened her mouth to try and tell him everything that she'd figured out with Natasha, the words burning to leave her lips.

But, before she could get anything out, Fitz held up a hand, attempting to catch his breath. "Jemma… There's something I need to tell you before you say anything. I promise that if you think it's too soon, or even if you will always think it's too soon, that's okay, you can say no.”

“Leo, it’s okay,” Jemma cut in, ignoring his request to talk before she did. “You don’t have to –”

“But this is something I need to say – to _ask_ ,” he continued, ignoring her as well. “I love you, and I never want to live without you. I will love you for the rest of my life – a life I can't imagine sharing with anyone else.”

“If you didn’t mean it, it’s fine,” Jemma continued as well, pushing forward with what she needed to say, worried that he was only doing this because it was what he felt he had to after what he’d said earlier. “I’ll be ready when you –”

“Jemma Simmons, will you marry me?" Then, he was pulling a small box out of his pocket and getting down on one knee beside the bed, opening the box to reveal the most beautiful ring Jemma had ever seen – especially because it was _Fitz_ holding it – and he looked so serious and almost near tears and it was then that Jemma realized what had just happened.

“Oh god,” she whispered, feeling her eyes begin to burn with unshed tears. Her hands came up to cover her mouth, and she shook her head in disbelief.

Fitz’s face fell a bit, but he nodded, standing back up and closing the ring box back up. He forced a smile. “I told you it was okay to say no, and I meant that, Jem.”

Jemma’s eyes grew wide with horror, and she quickly shook her head again. “No! Leo, no! That’s not what I meant! I mean, _yes_ , yes _of course_!”

“Yes… _what_?” Fitz asked, his expression filling with confusion.

Jemma couldn’t help but roll her eyes as a small half-laugh, half-sob slipped past her lips. “ _Yes_ I’ll marry you, you idiot!”

His jaw dropped open so comically that Jemma had to laugh again and she was sobbing and probably looked like a complete mess (and oh god she didn’t even have makeup on and what did her hair look like after the mission, then the surgery and why did he have to propose _now_?!) but he was still looking at her like she was the most gorgeous thing to ever walk the earth and it only made the tears she was trying to keep at bay fall down her cheeks.

“ _Really_?” he whispered, in clear disbelief. Jemma nodded, covering her huge smile with her hand. Fitz’s eyes grew wider, then the biggest smile she’d ever seen split his face and his eyes lit up. “Really?!”

“ _Yes_!” she cried, reaching out with her good arm to shove him playfully. “Now, are you going to put that ring on me or am I going to have to do it myself?”

Fitz’s wide eyes glanced down at the ring box still in his hand like he’d never seen it before, but then he jumped in surprise and hastily reopened it, taking the ring out and gently taking her left hand in his, sliding the ring onto her third finger.

Jemma held her hand up slightly to smile giddily at it. “Looks pretty good.”

Fitz shoved the empty box into his pocket before taking Jemma’s hand carefully between both of his and lifting it to press a kiss to the ring. “It looks perfect,” he corrected softly. Lowering her hand gently back to the bed, but not releasing it, he admitted quietly, “My…er…my mum gave it to me.”

Jemma’s eyes widened at that. “She _did_?”

Refusing to meet her gaze, Fitz explained awkwardly, “After…I told her that we were dating, she sent this without even telling me she was going to. I couldn’t believe it at first, because we’d _just_ gotten together, but when I reminded her of that, she told me that wasn’t true, and that we’d been together for a lot longer, and that I was going to be needing this soon.”

Jemma’s heart grew warm with fondness for Fitz’s mother; she’d always liked her. “She’s right, you know. I hardly believe that it’s only been –”

“Four and a half months,” they said in unison, sharing a grin.

Glancing down at the ring, Jemma asked softly, “It’s hers, isn’t it?”

Fitz nodded, running his thumb over the ring and clearly still in complete shock that Jemma was wearing it and that they were _engaged,_ much like Jemma was. “Yeah,” he answered simply.

“Tell her thank you,” Jemma said sincerely.

Fitz raised an eyebrow at her. “Do you honestly think that once I tell her we’re engaged that she won’t have me find you and make you talk to her yourself?”

Jemma laughed, shaking her head. “You’re right. I will just tell her myself.” She reached over with her good hand to place it over his, squeezing gently. “Leo.” When he met her gaze, she smiled softly. “I love you.”

A wide smile pulled at his lips as he squeezed her hand in return. “I love you too, Jemma.” Then, he leaned forward and for the first time and most certainly not the last, they shared a kiss as an engaged couple.


	16. Epilogue

Sometime later, Skye finally appeared in Jemma’s room, concern clear in her expression "Hey, how are you feeling?" she asked, coming into the room to stand beside the bed.

Jemma couldn't hold back her elated grin. "Amazing."

Skye's eyebrows furrowed in complete confusion. "You feel… _amazing_. After getting _shot_?" Then, her eyes widened with realization. "Oh yeah, they must have you on some great drugs."

Jemma laughed, shaking her head. "No, it's not the drugs, Skye!" Unable to hold it in anymore, she lifted her left hand as best she could to display its new accessory.

Skye's eyes popped wide open in complete shock and disbelief. "No _way_! Jemma Simmons, is that what I think it is?!"

Jemma nodded as enthusiastically as she could without hurting her wound. "Leo asked me to marry him."

"Oh my god!" Skye threw her arms around Jemma and pulled her into a hug, obviously forgetting about the reason why Jemma was in the infirmary.

As pain shot through her chest and shoulder, Jemma let out a pained whimper. "… _ow_."

Gasping, Skye quickly released Jemma and stepped back. "Oh god, I'm sorry! I forgot –"

"It's fine," Jemma assured her, forcing a smile through the pain. "I don't blame you. I did kind of drop a bombshell on you."

" _Um_ yeah you did! But this is awesome! Okay, I need all the details. How, when, and how nervous was Fitz? Because I totally picture him sweating and stuttering.”

“Well…the first time was not long after I woke up, and –”

“The _first_ time?” Skye echoed, her eyebrows arching in surprise. “Just how many times did he ask you?”

“Just twice,” Jemma answered defensively. “And really, it’s not Leo’s fault, because he didn’t exactly _mean_ to ask me the first time. But, the second time, he was a bit nervous, but there was no stuttering or sweating. It was very beautiful.” Then, she winced a bit and added, “Well, once I realized what he was doing, that is.”

Skye gave a long, exaggerated sigh, even though she was grinning. “You guys.” Shaking her head, she told Jemma with a laugh, “But, no, this really is awesome. Like I didn't even realize how much my life needed a Fitzsimmons wedding until this moment."

Jemma gave a little laugh at that, given that searing pain in her chest hadn’t completely faded yet. However, then her mind caught on something Skye had said. "Fitzsimmons," she whispered, her eyes widening.

"Huh?"

Jemma shook her head, her mind working quickly. "Skye, would you do me a favor and go get Leo for me?"

Skye still looked confused, but she took a step back in the direction of the door. “Sure. And, just…congratulations, Jemma.” With, that she left in search of Fitz.

Not long after, Jemma looked up as she heard footsteps heading toward her room. "Skye said you wanted to see me," Fitz said as he came into the room, looking concerned, "And she very enthusiastically applauded me for 'putting a ring on it'."

Jemma smiled a bit distractedly at that, holding out her good hand to Fitz, which he immediately moved closer and took in his own. "There's something I wanted to run by you," she admitted.

Fitz nodded for her to go on, his brow creased in confusion. "Alright."

Jemma took a deep breath, squeezing his hand. "I know that it's tradition for the woman to take the man's name –"

Fitz's face fell, but he was nodding before he let her finish. "Jemma, if you want to keep your last name that's fine with me, all that matters is that we're married."

Jemma shook her head, rolling her eyes fondly at his misunderstanding. "Leo, that's not what I'm saying! I was wondering, if…if you wanted, we could _both_ change our last names. To…Fitzsimmons."

Fitz's mouth fell open, his eyes wide. "You…you want to do that?"

Jemma nodded, smiling as she squeezed his hand. "Yes, I do. If you do too, that is. It just…seems right. For almost as long as we’ve been partners, we’ve been Fitzsimmons, and now that we'll _legally_ be partners, it only makes sense that we _legally_ become Fitzsimmons."

Fitz slowly shook his head, his expression one of clear awe. “Jem…that’s _perfect_. Of course I want to.” He raised her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. Almost to himself, he murmured, “Jemma Fitzsimmons.”

Jemma felt her heart beat a bit faster at the sound of her future name, and just how right it felt. “And Leo Fitzsimmons,” she added, smiling up at him.

“Jemma and Leo Fitzsimmons,” he corrected, smiling widely.

“Perfect,” Jemma whispered.

\---

After Jemma got out of the infirmary, everyone at the base threw her and Fitz an impromptu engagement party that even the other Avengers and their significant others (and Darcy) were able to attend, given that they hadn’t left the Playground yet, deciding to spend a couple more days there to help Coulson with the clean up and dealing with the Widows taken from the Red Room.

The party had gone off without a hitch, and it was winding down when Fitz came up behind Jemma, wrapping his arms around her waist, his left hand finding hers and his fingers lovingly stroking the ring he’d placed there. He kissed her shoulder, just above where the bullet wound and the scar it would eventually leave behind were.

From the other side of the room, Coulson was watching the two young scientists with a small smile, his arms crossed over his chest. When Natasha came up beside him, he gave her a nod of acknowledgment. “Natasha.”

“Coulson.” She silently observed the party, and Fitz and Jemma, with him for a moment before she asked him a question that had been bothering her for some time. “Did you have any idea? That Clint and I would take them under our wing?”

Coulson’s lips quirked up slightly. “Actually, no. I only hoped that you’d help her get through Fitz’s coma, and whatever followed. Out of all of us, you were the only one who had experienced anything close to similar, and that was what she seemed to need. Honestly, it all worked out much better than I could’ve imagined.”

Natasha watched as Jemma turned in Fitz’s arms, winding her own around his neck and beaming up at him. With a small smile tugging at her lips, she told Coulson, “I think the feeling’s pretty mutual.”

\---

Thousands of miles away, a lone figure was just crossing the threshold of a formerly intimidating steel compound. Stepping carelessly over bodies of men in tactical gear, they headed with purpose through the winding halls, finally reaching the office at the very back of the compound.

Even from the doorway, there was no mistaking the mangled, already decaying form on the ground, surrounded by blood that had long since dried from crimson to a dull reddish-brown.

A pained wail was torn from the lips of the woman frozen just outside the room. Her hands clutched at the doorframe for support as her legs grew weak. She just barely managed to fling herself across the room to fall to her knees at his side. There was no need to check for a pulse – his wide, unseeing eyes told the story all on their own.

The woman reached out with a shaking hand, placing it on his cold cheek. “What have they done to you?” she whispered, her voice nearly breaking on the words.

“My condolences.”

She looked up sharply at the unfamiliar male voice, her free hand already on the gun hidden in her waistband. The dark-haired man with the chiseled features and matching dark eyes in the doorway held up his hands to show he meant her no harm, but she did not lower her gun.

“I know who did this,” he told her, and she knew enough to see the calculation behind his eyes, though whether he was calculating how to distract her and get the upper hand or how to get her to do something he needed, she wasn’t clear on.

“So do I,” she informed him, the words coming out on a growl, “And she will pay for it.”

He inclined his head in acknowledgment, and she wondered if that was it, if that was all he’d had to offer and he would now leave her alone with her grief. But, then he said, “I know how to find her. I know how to get to her without ever tipping her off.”

Eyes narrowed and the gun in her hand never wavering, she demanded, “How? I will not settle for your words alone. I am not stupid.”

“I never thought you were.” Boldly, he lowered his hands and stepped across the room until he was standing above her. “Come with me, and I’ll show you what happens when they cut off a head.”

His words intrigued her, as did his boldness. She stood, eyeing him carefully for a moment, then tucked her gun back into her waistband. Meeting his unwavering gaze for a long moment, she then turned and grabbed the antique, jeweled sword she knew he had prized more than almost anything – but not more than _her_ , never more than _her_ – from its place on the wall. Facing the mysterious man once more, she stated firmly, “I’ll return the favor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say thank you so much to everyone who read, commented, gave kudos, and bookmarked this fic! I’m so glad that people enjoyed it, and I promise this isn’t the end of this story! There should be a one shot that takes place after this story coming out soon, and a sequel at some point (I’m still working on it – it’s already longer than this one and not even halfway done!), plus there will likely be a series of outtakes/missing scenes from Hardest Kept Promises sometime, so definitely expect more from this universe!


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